


Lifetime Warranty

by dandelionwhiskey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Dean Flirts, Grumpy Castiel, Humor, M/M, Phone Sex, Romance, Semi-Public Sex, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2017-12-30 17:04:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelionwhiskey/pseuds/dandelionwhiskey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel works as a tech consultant an electronics store themed after Heaven. He's given a ticket- sorry, Prayer- from Dean Winchester, a man who set his laptop on fire. It's important he fixes it fast and doesn't fall for the guy on the other line. Really important.  He keeps telling himself that, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Talk

**Author's Note:**

> All artwork by the incomparable [purgatoryjar!](http://purgatoryjar.tumblr.com). Thank you so much for your patience and hard work with this. Your work is gorgeous and this story wouldn't be the same without it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They talk.

  


Castiel hiked his bag further up on his shoulder as he yanked the door open to Tech Heaven, giving a tight smile to an exiting customer as the familiar recording of angelic choirs played over his head. The store was busier than a Wednesday normally demanded; some customers perusing their minimal selection of software, but most lined up at the Angel desk. 

He was barely through the door before Anna was grasping his forearms and dragging him toward the service counter. He quickly pinned on his name tag, complete with embossed angel wings around his name. 

“You have three tickets,” Anna started hurriedly, ducking behind the counter with him. She shoved the receipts into his hands. “One hard drive failure, a trojan, and a flame.”

“I've never heard of that virus,” Cas said, furrowing his brow.

Anna shook her head. “No, not a virus. It was literally on fire when he brought it in.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Give it to Gabriel, he's the hardware expert.” 

Gabriel chose that moment to poke his head out of the back room, holding up a circuit board. “No can do, buddy. I'm backed up six Prayers.” Cas frowned, displeased. The tickets- or Prayers, as Chuck insisted, should ideally be answered by the end of the day. If Gabriel was that backed up, Cas had a lot of work in front of him.

“All right, fine,” he sighed, snagging the tickets and retreating to his desk, where the damaged computers would be waiting.

Castiel liked working at Tech Heaven most days. He could put up with the kitschy theme, the dumb names for every damn thing they did, for all the benefits. He started in on the first ticket: hard drive failure on a 2008 Macbook. File recovery. As he worked, he scrolled through all the upsides in his head.

He liked the staff- his fellow Angels (he did inwardly cringe at their title) were like his family. They cared about him, something Castiel craved more than he liked to admit. He liked the paycheck. He wasn't a big spender, so between this job and his frugal lifestyle he found comfort in his monetary cushion. He even liked the work; he enjoyed methodically breaking apart and rebuilding technology. Fixing something felt like rewarding his understanding of the ins-and-outs of the hardware, the maze of the software. 

It made him feel useful.

He set the first computer aside to finish its file transfer as Gabriel returned to the back room. 

“Done already?” Gabe asked, checking his watch. “You're gonna break a personal record.”

Cas laughed bitterly. “Probably not, considering I have one of your hardware fixes.” Gabriel rolls his eyes, plopping down across from Cas and snagging a lollipop from the jar on his desk. 

“You gotta learn someday, buddy,” he said, winking as he bit into the sucker. 

“Shouldn't you be working?” Cas grumbled, beginning his next ticket. Gabriel grinned and shrugged.

“Yeah, probably. Such a workhorse, Cas.” He retreated to his desk and began rifling through a toolbox. Castiel let himself smile inside at how Gabriel was completely unflappable. The next ticket was a virus clearing, it'd only take a few minutes. 

“Castiel,” Anna said suddenly from behind him, “I have five more Prayers for you.” 

Cas sighed, tapping his inbox while he booted the broken laptop in safe mode. He could feel Anna's smile on the back of his neck, followed closely by her squeezing his shoulder. He looked up to her, finding her wide, concerned eyes.

“You all right, Cas?” She asked softly. Castiel was surprised. He was fine. He hadn't meant to give any other impression. 

“Of course,” he said, trying to keep the surprise from his voice. 

She nodded sympathetically, with something like pity shining in her eyes. “Good. You know, if there's anything you need to talk about-”

“I'm fine, Anna,” he insisted, smiling at her. “Maybe a little tired,” he admitted, but that wasn't entirely true. He wasn't sure what brought on the sudden concern, but he was positive he didn't like it. She thankfully gave up, leaving Cas to thumb through the new tickets.

\ \ \ 

Three hours into work later, Cas had answered half his Prayers and only been harassed by Gabriel once. It had been busy enough that they all had to mostly keep to themselves, but Cas found it sort of lonely. His favorite days were the slow ones, where they earned their hourly while sitting at the Angel desk and chatting. They did get a small commission, so being busy wasn't entirely awful, but Castiel wasn't hurting for money. 

He had been putting off the burnt laptop for most of the day, but with only quick software problems left, he decided to tackle it. He pulled it out from under his desk, wrinkling his nose. It smelled of burnt plastic and sharp scent of singed metal. 

Castiel opened it up, noting the keyboard which had melted into almost a solid chunk. The screen had a hole burned into the bottom left of the display. He shook his head, he had no idea how this could be salvageable. He looked up to Gabriel, tinkering on the other side of the room.

“Is there even anything I can do with this?” He asked, turning the laptop to Gabriel. 

Gabriel laughed. “Uh, you can melt it down more and sell it for 42 cents,” he suggested. Cas glared at him. “I dunno. You can replace the screen and the keyboard individually, and who knows what the damage to the hard drive is. C'mon, be creative.”

“We don't have this model's screen in stock,” Cas mumbled absently. Gabe shrugged.

“Send out for one,” Gabriel offered absently. Castiel could kick himself. It was expensive to order a part, but of course it was an option. He would have to call the client. It was possible he wouldn't want to pay the extra money. He picked up his office phone, glancing at the top of the ticket as the phone rang.

“Hello?” He heard after the third ring. 

“Hi, is this Dean Winchester?” Castiel asked, using his best professional voice.

“It is. And yes, I will go out with you,” the voice replied. Castiel's eyes widened in a way he's sure Gabriel would have loved.

“Wh-what?”

“Sorry,” came Dean's answer, “when you said my name in that voice I just assumed you were trying to seduce me.”

“What voice? This is just my voice,” Castiel said aloud, then kicked himself.

Dean chuckled. “Lucky me,” he said. Yeah, Cas walked right into that one. He cleared his throat, forgetting the script he was supposed to spout at his customers, and just started talking.

“I'm calling from Tech Heaven, it's about your laptop?” He tried.

“Oh,” and Dean did _not_ sound disappointed, Cas assured himself. “Is it finished?”

Castiel resisted a scoff. “No. To even see if the hard drive is salvageable, I'll have to send out for a new screen. It'll take about a week, and cost you a little extra.”

“Yeah? What'll you charge me?” Dean asked, voice just dripping with innuendo. Castiel barely noticed the smile creeping onto his face. 

“It's an extra three-hundred on top of the repair costs,” he said evenly. 

“Two-hundred.”

“It's not a negotiation, Mr. Winchester,” Castiel replied, grinning.

“You're smiling. I made you laugh.”

“Mr. Winchester-”

Dean laughed aloud. “Fine, fine. Three-hundred. Send out for it.” 

All the humor dropped from Castiel's voice. “Are you sure? That brings your total cost close to six-hundred dollars. You could buy a new laptop.”

“I could,” Dean said, lightness in his voice. “But then I'd have to stop talking to you.”

Castiel was sure Dean could hear the blood rushing to his cheeks. “You're paying six-hundred dollars to talk to me?”

“I've paid more for less,” was the response, and Castiel was just about to retort when Dean cut him off. “Not to take back the compliment, but I have some serious information on that hard drive. I'll do whatever I need to recover it. I'm not paying out of pocket.”

“Oh,” Cas said. That made way more sense. Dean laughed and Castiel colored further, ducking his head. He knew it was ridiculous to be reacting so physically when Dean couldn't even see him, but he couldn't seem to control himself.

“Aw, don't be so hard on yourself. You're a perk.”

“You don't even know my name,” Cas argued.

Dean hummed. “You could tell me.”

“I could pass your ticket off to another employee.”

“You won't.”

“No,” Cas admitted. “I won't.” 

“Good,” said Dean. “Order the part. I want you to call me every day until it arrives, do you understand? I have to keep my boss in-the-know.”

Castiel thought there might be something more to it. “I understand, Mr. Winchester.”

“You know, it's kinky that you call me that, but you can really just call me Dean.”

“Goodbye, Dean,” and Castiel hung up.

///

“What's with you?” Gabriel asked, nudging Castiel out of his stupor. Ever since his conversation with Dean, he'd been zoning out every few minutes. It was just strange. He'd never spoken to someone so forward before. Probably, he surmised, because it was over the phone. When people talked to him in real life they found him off-putting. Gabriel's words, not his. Oh, right. Gabriel.

“Nothing, just a customer,” he mumbled in response. He could feel a blush creeping onto his cheeks and he frowned at Gabe's eyebrow raise. 

“A customer, huh? A cute one?” His elbow jolted into Castiel's side. Gabriel's endless quest to get him laid was often tiring. He flinched and sighed, jostling Gabriel away from him. 

“It was over the phone, Gabe,” he said with exasperation. But with that kind of confidence, he had to be moderately attractive. Castiel didn't have an exact face in mind, but an amalgam of strong jaws, sharp eyes, tan skin- something like that. Maybe. 

“Earth to Castiel,” Gabriel said, flicking his forehead. Cas swatted at him, allowing himself a little laugh. He was crushing on a _voice_ , for God's sake.

“Were you here when the guy brought in the burning laptop?” Cas asked. Gabriel whistled.

“Well, if you're going to finally pick a guy to fall head-over-heels for, he's the one,” Gabriel said sagely. Castiel ignored the surge of victory that compelled him to pump his fist. 

“Why do you say that?” He asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

Gabriel shrugged. “He's a grade-A hottie. Maybe not all that smart, seeing as he set his computer on fire, but we can't all be Jennifer Lawrence.”

“He's smart,” Castiel argued, and Gabriel took that as a cue to excitedly shake Cas by the shoulders. Cas shoved him away, straightening his rumpled shirt. “Stop it.”

Gabe shook his head, poking at Castiel's arms. “No way. You got a crush for the first time in pretty much ever, it's my duty to give you a hard time about it. Are you going to ask him out?”

Cas frowned. He hadn't thought about it. It wouldn't be very professional of him to do something like that when Dean was his customer and owed the company six-hundred dollars. Then again, Dean did ask him out five seconds after they'd said hello, so maybe he'd have another opportunity. Unless Dean just spoke like that to everyone. 

“Whoa, don't break your head, it was just a question,” Gabriel said. “Don't worry about it, man. The moment will come.”

“Yeah,” Cas agreed softly, trying not to think about it too hard. He still had a few Prayers to get through for the day, and he wasn't going to let this... thing distract him. Much.

\\\\\

Castiel stayed true to his promise of calling Dean each day. By day five, their conversations were running so long that Anna began factoring them into the amount of Prayers she bestowed on Cas. Gabriel found it desperately unfair that Cas got extra time 'just to talk to his boyfriend,' but Anna was steadfast in her decision. 

Obviously, it had become the most exciting part of Castiel's day. As soon as Dean answered the phone, it was the like the world tunneled around him and all he could concentrate on was Dean's voice. He'd learned a little: Dean worked in education, but that was as in-depth as he got about his job. He also deeply enjoyed puns, although Cas suspected he enjoyed people's reactions to them more than the jokes himself. He learned that Dean loved steak, scotch, and Animal Planet. 

Each day, Castiel reminded him that the ordered part was still on its way, and that it was expensive. Dean would laugh and say it was all right, he wasn't expecting a discount just because he flirts with his Angel. Castiel would ask Dean to not call him that, and Dean would staunchly refuse.

Cas learned that he really liked Dean. 

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Dean said on day five.

“What way would you like to meet?” Castiel said, and he heard an exaggerated gasp on the other side of the phone.

“Did you just flirt back with me, Castiel?”

Cas laughed quietly, running a hand through his hair. “No. Innocent question.”

“Liar,” Dean accused lightly. “I think. One day we'll meet in person and I'll be able to read your tells like a book.”

Castiel touched his hair when he lied. Dean would pick up on that in ten seconds. He blushed despite himself. The conversation moved from 'Did you watch that movie I told you about?' to 'Well, just tell Gabriel to stuff it,' to 'this horrible customer told me to go to Hell.'

“She what?”

“She was pissed because we couldn't recover some data from her hard drive. She lost a bunch of songs she probably downloaded illegally.”

“No, no, I mean-” Dean was laughing, unable to catch his breath. Castiel rolled his eyes.

“I'm glad you find it funny.”

“I just mean, did she realize the irony? Of telling an Angel to go to Hell.”

“Don't call me that,” Castiel complained, idly touching his nametag. 

Dean finally breathed again, humming sympathetically. “Aw, why don't you take it as a compliment?”

“I don't know,” Cas sighed, “it's kind of silly. Angels, prayers, all that.”

“I think it's hilarious. Your owner is a genius.”

“You _would_ think that. Whenever he comes in, he dresses in an all-white suit.”

“He does not.” Dean sounded inappropriately excited about it. 

Cas' lips turned up in a smile. “Yeah. But it's not a superiority complex thing. It's more of a burden, or something. Like he's a put-upon God.”

“That's amazing. I'm in love with him. Put him on the phone.”

“Done with me already?” Cas teased, accidentally snapping the pencil he was playing with. He didn't know where today's confidence came from, but he was running with it. He just hoped Dean appreciated it.

“You start wearing fluffy Angel wings and I'll come back to you.”

“How about a halo?” Castiel bargained. 

“Oh, yeah, talk dirty to me,” came Dean's response, and Cas nearly dropped the phone. Hearing Dean say that, in his rough, low voice almost broke Cas' brain in half. He cleared his throat, shifting in his chair, ignoring the way his pants felt a little more uncomfortable than five minutes ago.

He realized he hadn't responded yet, and the silence was intimidating. He could hear Dean breathing. He wracked his brain for something to say, but his mind was spectacularly blank. 

“Um,” he tried, and Dean laughed, kind of breathy.

“Sorry, was that inappropriate?” He asked, tone light.

“No,” he said automatically. “I mean, yes! Yes, it was. But not entirely... unwelcome.”

There was a brief pause during which Castiel felt as though he should melt into the floor and disappear forever. “Noted,” Dean said, and Cas perked up. “I knew you had a soft spot for me, Cas.”

“Shut it.”

“Is my screen in yet?”

“No,” Cas said, still sort of reeling. “I guess I'll have to call you again tomorrow.”

“Looking forward to it. Hey, Cas?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe make sure you can get some privacy next time,” Dean said, voice all quiet and low and filled with implications that Cas couldn't even begin to wrap his head around. “If you know what I mean.”

“Okay,” Cas said, voice just above a whisper. Dean clicked his tongue and hung up.

Castiel stared at his desk for a minute, carefully lowering the phone to the receiver. He just sat there, a little turned-on, and somewhat embarrassed. Thank God Tech Heaven didn't record their phone calls.

 

\\\\\

The following day, Castiel inexplicably wore nicer pants. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he was dressing up for a phone call that had about a twelve-percent chance of getting a little intimate. He decided to mostly ignore the part of him that was screaming about what an enormous loser he was, and focus on the part that could hear Dean's voice saying 'talk dirty to me.'

The day passed like molasses. He only had two Prayer tickets and couldn't focus enough to really complete either of them. He was yanked from his stupor around midday, when Anna burst through the service door.

“Good news, Castiel!” She said cheerily, plopping a brown package down on Cas' desk. “The package for your client came. You can get started on fixing his laptop, now. Good, right?”

A great weight sat on Castiel's chest. It certainly was not good. He didn't _want_ to fix Dean's computer; he wanted it to sit on his desk like a trophy, like a solid reminder of his miniscule ability to be able to hold a conversation with an attractive person. He must have frowned at the package, because Anna's smile fell right off her face.

“Oh, Cas. Once you fix it, you can ask him out. Right?” She said. Always so supportive. Cas gave her a weak smile.

“Yeah,” he said. _And then he can say no and drop out of my life as quickly as he entered it._ “You're right. I'll get to work.” Her expression brightened and she squeezed Castiel's shoulder on her way out. 

Cas glared at the package. He shoved it to the far corner of his desk, unopened, and darkly worked on his other tickets. It was a futile attempt to distract himself, but he figured it was worth trying. Gabriel mostly left him alone, probably sensing the petulance rolling off of him. The workroom was pretty quiet. 

“Okay, what's got you all huffing and puffing today, Cas?” Gabe finally asked after Castiel's thousandth sigh. Cas looked up from the computer he was working on and slumped his shoulders.

“Dean's screen came.”

Gabriel whistled, low and long. “Tough break.”

Castiel groaned and rested his forehead against his desk, closing his eyes tightly.

“Don't be such a drama queen,” Gabe chastised. “You told him it would take a week, right? So, don't tell him until Monday. Then you get three more days of making lovey-dovey coo noises over the phone at each other.”

Castiel sat up. “I... can't do that.” But he could. And he wanted to.

“C'mon, just a few more days of phone-flirting and he'll be addicted to you,” he said simply. “Make sure he wants to tongue you softly and finish up his ticket so he can ask you out.”

Cas wrinkled up his nose. “Gross, Gabriel.”

Gabriel just shrugged. “Take it or leave it, loverboy. I'm sure Dean is already in it to win it with you, but nothing like a little added security.”

“I could get fired,” Castiel argued.

“You could get laid,” Gabe winked. 

Castiel was very quiet for the next few hours.

\\\\\

Cas called Dean during his break. 

“Dean Winchester,” he answered, and Cas swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas!” Dean said pleasantly, and Cas heard some shuffling on the other end. “You're calling from an unknown number.”

Castiel felt a small surge of pride knowing that Dean had saved his work number into his phone. He cleared his throat. “Um, yeah, this is my cell phone.”

“Oh, private line, huh?” Dean laughed, and Castiel started to regret his decision. Maybe Dean was just joking yesterday after all. Maybe it was all just a big joke that soared gracefully over Castiel's head. He opened his mouth, ready to tell Dean that his computer part had arrived, when he was interrupted. “Are you alone?”

His mouth went dry. “I, uh. Yes.”

“Where are you?”

“I'm in one of the empty offices we use for storage,” he said quietly. “It smells like old cardboard and dust.”

“Sexy,” Dean said lightly. Cas let out a nervous chuckle, tugging at his collar. 

“Sorry,” he lamented. “I just- I'm not-”

“Castiel,” Dean said soothingly. “Relax.” Castiel did the exact opposite and stiffened almost immediately. As if sensing Cas' tension through the phone, Dean laughed quietly. “I honestly didn't think you'd actually go through with it.”

Cas shook his head. “I didn't, either. I didn't actually decide until about three minutes ago.”

Dean paused for a moment, then let out a breath. “You made the right choice.” Castiel flushed, blinking against the sudden lightheaded push behind his eyes. Unable to retrieve a single word, he settled for breathing as evenly as possible until Dean was forced to continue the conversation. He eventually did. 

“Cas,” he said. “You wanna know where I am?”

“Yes,” Castiel said. 

“I'm in my apartment, sitting on my bed. It's a king.” _Too big for one person,_ Castiel thought idly. “Should I lie down?”

“Yes,” Castiel said, and heard shuffling on the other end. He closed his eyes and tried to picture it from the vague description he'd begged from Gabriel. Dean laying on his back, one arm tucked behind his neck, maybe a leg pulled up. Legs splayed apart, lazy, comfortable. Cas bit his lip.

“You have such a great voice,” Dean sighed. “Voice of an angel.”

“Shut up,” Castiel laughed. His free hand wandered down to rest on his thigh. It felt warm through his jeans, but he closed his fingers around it and squeezed.

“M'serious. I want to hear more of it.”

Cas shifted in his seat. “Um. What do you want me to say?”

“Anything. What are you doing?”

Castiel had absolutely no idea where to start. “I'm, um, sitting. My hand is on my leg.”

“Good, good. What are you wearing?”

“My uniform,” Castiel said, and instantly realized how ridiculous he sounded. He was supposed to spice it up, make it sound intriguing, sexy. “You know. Black pants, white shirt. Nametag. But, uh. No undershirt.” Smooth.

“Kinky,” Dean said, huffing out a breath. It may have been a laugh, but Cas wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of anything, any of this. “Keep going. Could get off on you reading the fucking phone book.”

Castiel was suddenly very alert. His cheeks were hot with his blush and he was half hard in his jeans. He'd had phone sex before, once, with his high school boyfriend. It was awkward and unsexy and even though this was awkward, it was all kinds of sexy. He swallowed.

“I, um. I'm thinking about you in your room,” Castiel said. “Laying on your bed.”

“What do I look like?” 

“Good. On your back, hand on your chest.” Cas heard Dean moving, and he realized he was taking Castiel's instructions. The thought of it struck him hot in the spine. “Button-up?”

“How'd you guess?” Dean asked, voice just a little breathy.

“You're unbuttoning it,” Cas forged on, giving Dean the chance to follow. His eyes slipped shut again and the picture of it sharpened in his mind. Deft fingers loosening the buttons, tips sliding against the exposed skin. He bit his bottom lip, grip on his thigh tightening. He couldn't think of where to go next. He couldn't have Dean just dive right in, but he didn't want to be boring and linger too long. “Um.”

“It's warm in here,” Dean suggested. “I'm going to get a little more comfortable.” 

“Okay,” Castiel replied. His voice cracked slightly and he wondered if he could possibly be doing any worse. He imagined Dean shucking off his shirt, shoes. He heard the sound of a zipper and partly suspected Dean put the phone by his crotch just so Castiel would hear it. “So. You're on your bed in... boxer briefs?” 

“Good call.”

“You're, um. Touching your stomach,” Castiel attempted. Dean hummed softly, encouragingly, and Cas pressed on, but choked on his words. “St-uh, -roking.”

“What was that?” Dean asked, and Castiel wished he could disappear into thin air. 

“Stroking,” Castiel repeated. “Your stomach.”

Castiel wasn't sure if Dean decided to take pity on him or if he just wanted to take the reins, but he could not have been more grateful when Dean started talking. “Yeah, I am, Cas. What about you? Trying to be all discreet in a back office, that's pretty risky. You gonna take your pants off?”

“No,” Castiel said, hand still firmly on his thigh.

“Unbutton them,” Dean instructed, and Cas found himself doing it before he even fully comprehended why. “Are you hard?”

“Yeah,” Cas said quietly. He'd gone from semi-erect to hard as a rock in the past ten seconds, and his head rushed with it.

Dean made an appreciative noise. “Me, too. Do you like hearing that?”

“Of course,” Cas said flatly. That was one of the dumbest questions he'd ever been asked in his life. He belatedly realized Dean was fishing for some sort of sexy compliment. “I mean, um. I really like hearing that, Dean.”

“Are you still picturing me?”

“Yes,” Castiel said, his fingers creeping into his pants to press against his erection through his boxers.

“Is it turning you on?”

“Uh huh,” Castiel mumbled, sticking his hand into the slit of his boxers and pulling himself out. 

Dean's low laugh emanated from the receiver and went straight to Castiel's cock. “Are you touching yourself?”

Cas bit his lip. He was. He stroked himself in long, languid movements, listening to Dean's breathing. At his lack of answer, he swore he heard Dean moan softly. His grip tightened.

“Castiel,” Dean muttered, dirty, straight into Cas' ear. Cas jolted a little, snapping back to reality and slowing his movements. “It's okay. I am, too.”

“But- I didn't tell you to,” Castiel said, surprised, and he heard Dean's breath hitch. He froze when it occurred to him that maybe Dean _wasn't_ following his instructions, and Cas just started some weird power play dynamic that was totally not his intention. He couldn't believe Dean hadn't hung up on him yet. 

Dean paused a moment, but his breathing changed pace. “You bossin' me around?” He asked, smile evident.

Cas huffed out a breath. “No, I wasn't, I was just- I thought-”

“It's a good thing I get off on insurmountable insecurity,” Dean said. Castiel bit his lip.

“I'm sorry, Dean,” he sighed, pulling his hand out of his jeans. “I don't know what to say.”

Dean gave a breathy laugh. “All right, fine. It's your first rodeo, I can take the reins.”

Castiel felt like an enormous failure, but he couldn't help the wave of relief that washed over him. “Okay. What, uh... what are you doing now?”

“Took off my shirt. I'm jerking off. Your voice does shit to me, Cas,” he said, and Cas felt the warmth flare up inside of him again. He tentatively grasped his cock again, slowly pumping from base to tip. 

“Yours too,” Cas muttered. 

“Where do you like to be touched?” Dean asked. Castiel's hips bucked up into his grip a little as he actually began to lose himself in the fantasy.

“My neck,” Cas breathed, “my chest.” He allowed himself a moment to be completely in awe of this situation. A guy that Gabriel insisted was attractive was quietly panting into his ear, somehow actually interested in Castiel. Wanting to get him off. His hand drifted to his neck, pressing his fingers softly against his throat. He slid his hand down his chest, thumb swiping against his nipple over the the shirt. 

Dean voice fell to a different register as he talked, a slight roughness edging in. Castiel loved it. He tried to memorize the tone for future reference. Dean started talking about kissing him, licking his neck, palming his dick. He cradled the phone between his shoulder and ear, moving his free hand to his mouth to lick two fingers. Cas slid them along his neck, letting himself pretend. 

“Wish I could pull you on top of me, grind into you. I bet you have nice hips,” Dean was saying, and Cas bit down on a noise. “I'd grab your ass and just pull you into me. Wrap my legs around you and pant against your neck.”

Cas honest-to-God _whimpers_ , his hand moving faster on his cock. He pushed his jeans down to his knees, letting his legs splay out. Dean responded with his own low sound that went straight through Castiel, spurring him further.

“I bet you look good right now- all hard and hot in your hand, right?”

Castiel opened his mouth, but he couldn't find words. 

“God, that's so hot- you can't even fucking talk,” Dean said and Castiel squirmed in his chair, hips thrusting up hard against his hand. “You're gonna have to, though.”

“Dean,” Castiel managed. “I can't- I, uh-” The whole taboo of the situation crept at the back of Castiel's neck, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. 

“You gonna come, Cas? Already?”

“Shut up,” Cas gasped, his free hand clenching into a fist. Dean laughed, always laughing, somehow making it sexy and breathy and perfect. 

“I can't wait to do this to you,” Dean mumbled. “For real. Touch you, kiss you, make you come. You want me to do that, Castiel?”

“Uh huh,” Cas grunted. He can feel sweat sticky on his skin, making his clothes cling just a little to his skin. “Want you under me, want to feel your mouth on me. Fuck.” He wasn't sure where the words came from but he was so grateful for them once he said them aloud that he followed them up with a small moan.

He heard Dean make a sort of strangled, cut-off noise, followed by long exhale. He just came. The thought hit Castiel like a bolt of lightning and he was taut in the chair, hand fast and pumping on his dick.

“Come on, Cas. Come for me,” Dean said, voice all fucked and hoarse and airy. Cas did as he was told.

\\\\\

“Still with me, Castiel?” Dean asked a few minutes later, after a bit of breathing and Cas cleaning himself up with the tissues he'd brought. 

“Barely,” Cas admitted. 

“I hear you,” Dean said, and Cas heard him stretch and groan. “You've got a hidden talent. I'm determined to hone it.” 

Cas was blushing from head to toe, tucking his shirt back into his jeans. He'd never said anything like that before in his life. It was just something about Dean's coaxing, his words fastening onto Cas like puppet strings. 

“Mmm, love it when you ignore my objectification. Hey, did my package come in, yet?” Dean asked. 

Castiel froze, Gabriel's advice floating through his mind alongside Dean's promise of honing his skills. He blamed the post-orgasm haze for his next decision. “Not yet,” he said, and Dean made a frustrated noise.

“You said a week, right?” He asked, and guilt seized Castiel tightly.

“Um, yeah. Should be here before you know it.”

“Good,” Dean said. “It's important. Sorry, I know it's not your fault.”

“Yeah, don't kill the messenger,” Cas tried, and he sounded strained. He ran a hand through his hair. 

Dean tsked. “I could never kill someone who gives me orgasms. That's blasphemy.”

“Orgasms? As in, more than one?” He asked before he could think about it. Dean's low chuckle only piqued his curiosity.

“Let's just say this isn't the first time I've thought about putting my hands on you,” he said, and Castiel shivered. It was a shame his break was over. 

He straightened his pants, smoothing his hands through his hair again, feeling the heat on his cheeks. “I have to get back to work,” he said ruefully. His eyes slid sheepishly to the door, which he just realized he forgot to lock. Well, wouldn't that have been a sight for Gabriel. Or, shit, Anna.

“I guess Angels gotta return to Heaven sometime,” Dean said wistfully. Castiel rolled his eyes. “Tell God I say 'hello.'”

\\\\\

Castiel's guilt ate at him all day. It manifested itself as anxiety, tugging and pulling in his gut every time it crossed his mind. Dean's package sat unopened on his desk, reminding him of his dishonesty every time he glanced at it. 

“I have to tell him,” he declared at the end of the day, and Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him. 

“That's your call, kiddo. If you think you have him on lock-down, go ahead and spill.” Castiel thought about it. So, they'd gotten to know each other, then were...intimate. Dean had even said it wasn't the first time. By that logic, he was bound to want to keep whatever they had going.

Unless, said the little voice in the back of his mind, unless Dean had gotten what he wanted and was ready to move on. Castiel flushed with embarrassment. It wasn't likely, Dean seemed like- well. He didn't know Dean at all, really. He was just a voice on the other side of the phone. How could he presume to know him?

In his apartment that evening, Castiel hung up his work uniform and stood in front of his full-length mirror in his underwear. He ran his fingers down his chest, watching the pale trails left in their wake from the pressure. He had an imaginary Dean there with him, calling him Angel, wrapping his arms around Cas from behind. He could hear Dean's voice low in his ear, mumbling compliments, snapping the band on his boxer-briefs. Castiel found himself smiling. He wanted to turn around in Dean's arms and kiss him, push him down, laugh with him. 

His depression kicked in around midnight, laying under his sheets, clean and cold. If he had to lie to someone just to keep them around, let alone someone he barely knew, it was time to rethink things. He'd taken Gabriel's advice. _Gabriel_. He knew loneliness could drive a person crazy, he just assumed it would take a little longer.

After a full night of not eating and nearly tearing his hair out, Castiel decided to tell Dean the following day. He woke after only a few hours of sleep, feeling haggard, hungover. He dragged himself out of his bed, threw on his uniform, and caught himself in the mirror. He wondered how they'd look in fake wings and halos.

Chuck was coming into the store today for his monthly evaluation. Castiel liked him. He was a little nervous, kind of a clean-freak, but he was generally friendly and approachable. His ever-present white suit was clean, matching the ethereal glow the whole shop emanated. He was leaning on the pristine Angel Desk – Raphael must have stayed late cleaning last night – talking to Anna. 

Behind the Angel Desk was Castiel, Gabriel, and Anna. They fixed computers. There was the sales floor: Michael, Luke, Raphael. They shilled software and hardware out to those wanting to upgrade or build their own computers.

Gabriel used to run the floor, but he fucked off so much that he was relocated. It was probably one of the more genius moves on Chuck's part. The very slight rivalry between the two departments had lessened over the years, but there was always this weird level of tension. Cas mostly kept to himself and tried to ignore it. 

He barely heard the angelic chorus by the door over the sound of his inner monologue as he pushed the door open. Chuck turned to greet him, thinking he was a customer, his smile dropping only slightly when he saw it was only Cas. 

"Hello, Sir," Cas greeted as he approached the counter.

"Hey, Castiel," Chuck said, straightening his suit. "Ready to answer all your Prayers today?"

"Always," Cas replied faux-brightly. Anna smiled sadly at him, as she always seemed to. He didn't think it was pity, exactly, more just general concern for how Cas chose to run his life. Castiel mostly attempted ignoring it, but he could feel it hot on the back of his neck as he pushed the door open to the back room.

His own empty smile dropped as he saw Dean's broken laptop sitting on his desk, emanating blame. He sat grimly, staring at the manifestation of his guilt and sighing. He wondered if he'd even be able to call Dean today with Chuck hanging around. He'd certainly have to be quick about it.

Gabriel was sitting rigidly at his desk, shirt tucked in, hair combed. "Sucking up to the boss today?" Cas teased lightly, managing to keep his voice free of the dour tone he'd been hearing in his head all morning.

"Just trying to hold onto my job, buddy," Gabriel responded. "You can phone-bang Dean as much as you want but I have a 401k to think about."

Cas froze, heat rising to his cheeks. "Wh-what?"

"You know, that whole aural foreplay thing you guys do every day," Gabriel said dismissively, rifling through his Prayers. Relief washed over Castiel, and he opened his mouth to refute, but Anna saved him. She waved a stack of tickets, which Cas looked at forlornly. Why didn't people use anti-virus software?

Secretly, he was thankful for the work. The more he had to do, the less time he had to think about what a despicable person he was. He worked diligently; it was all the same stuff he'd seen before. He was startled out of his reverie when Chuck clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Wow, you're really working hard," he said, tapping Cas' half-finished stack of Prayers. "You keep this up, I might promote you to Seraph." Seraphs, of course, were managerial positions. Castiel smiled at his boss appreciatively.

"Yeah, dedication to Dean's big, juicy- hello, Sir," Gabriel began, but was interrupted by Chuck coming to his station.

Cas flipped over the next ticket, and his stomach dropped. It was Dean's. It must have gotten refiled when the package came. Castiel took a deep breath, and decided to just fix the laptop. That way, when he called Dean to confess, at least he could tell him the computer was ready. Then Dean could pick it up and get to never talking to Cas again much sooner.

As he worked, he started to go over the conversations he'd had with Dean in his head. He attached the new keyboard and his frown became a half-smile. As he lifted off the old screen, he was nearly grinning. Of course he and Dean had something. He was ridiculous for assuming Dean was done with him. Dean would probably find the whole situation flattering. Castiel hooked up the new screen, plugged in the laptop, and turned the thing on.

It worked. Cas booted it in safe mode, verified the hard drive, and let himself be pleased. He was satisfied with his work, and knew Dean would be happy for him. He checked his watch and picked up the phone.

"Dean Winchester," he answered, sounding breathless.

Cas narrowed his eyes. He thought Dean had his work number saved. He cleared his throat. "Um, it's Cas."

"Oh, uh. Hey," Dean mumbled.

"Hi, um, I just wanted-"

"Look, Castiel, I don't really have time for this. Did my screen come in?"

Castiel was shocked. Dean was being short and cold, distracted, uninterested. Cas felt the equivalent of being snuck out on after a one-night stand. "No," he said sharply, and Dean sighed.

"Okay, then I gotta go."

"Yeah, okay," Cas said. "See you around."

He hung up before giving Dean a chance to respond.

Castiel sat stunned for a moment, his hand still resting on the phone receiver. Slowly, irritation started to take over, then was eclipsed by anger. Dean had the nerve to write him off after their conversation yesterday? Castiel hoped he wasn't blushing with his embarrassment, but he knew he was. He put his trust, so much trust, into this complete stranger. 

He worked quietly, angrily, fingers slamming on the keyboard of an uncooperative Toshiba. He sighed deeply, scooting back from his desk, and Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him from across the room.

“What's up your ass, Cas?” He said, crossing his arms. “Miss your phone-date today?”

“Oh, no, it happened,” Cas said, laughing under his breath.

Gabriel slid his chair over to Castiel's desk, leaning on the very little free space he found. “How could that have happened? I don't remember you disappearing for three hours.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “The conversation only lasted a minute.”

Gabriel winced, tapping his fingers against Castiel's wrist. “He didn't take your confession so well, did he?”

“He didn't take it at all,” Cas said snidely. “I didn't tell him.”

Gabe didn't say anything then, just leaned back, looking Cas up and down. Castiel squirmed under the scrutiny, guilt kicking in again.

“He- he didn't have the time of day for me, Gabriel,” Cas tried to explain.

“Did you stop to think he might be busy?” Gabriel asked.

“Of course!” He snapped, not even giving himself a moment to feel bad. He couldn't tell Gabriel why it was so upsetting to suddenly be ignored. So, instead, he let himself look like an insane person. Gabriel raised his hands defensively and rolled back to his desk.

Castiel considered quitting. In that case, he'd never have to explain himself to anyone. He could sit in his apartment and wallow all day, and no one would be the wiser. He spends the rest of his day saying nothing to no one, except when Anna grabbed him on the way out.

“Castiel!” She shouted at his back and he turned around, slapping a half-smile on. She jogged up to him, taking a pen out from behind her ear. “Chuck wants to have a Rapture sale day after tomorrow. Can you work a double?”

The Rapture Sale: Everything Must Go. Their prices slashed almost in half, it usually brought in a torrent of customers. Castiel couldn't think of anywhere else he'd rather be less. “Of course,” he said, gripping the strap on his bag hard. She showered him in thank yous and ushered him out the door to get some rest to prepare for a long couple of days.

Because Cas hadn't had enough of those lately.

At home, he stirred soup over the stove and ran his conversation with Dean over-and-over in his head. So many ways it could have gone, so many comebacks he could have snapped back. He was disappointed in himself, mostly, feeling dejected and rejected in the worst way. 

He imagined what Dean was doing, sitting on his king bed with his legs crossed talking dirty to some other hapless stranger on the other side. Cas grit his teeth. Despite his annoyance, he could still hear Dean's low voice, filled with humor and arousal, smoky and rough. He felt sorry for that inevitable next person that Dean manipulated. He wondered if Dean gave a shit about anybody.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [follow me on tumblr!](http://dandelionwhiskey.tumblr.com)


	2. Meet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet.

Castiel didn't call Dean the next day. Chuck had chosen him as his Charge, which meant he was to basically be his personal assistant at the store for the day. He usually chose someone from the sales team, usually Michael, but Castiel must have made an impression the day before.

It wasn't a difficult thing, mostly Cas just took inventory and Chuck's lunch order and glared intimidatingly at wily-looking youths. Chuck had a particular level of paranoia that Cas could manage fairly well; he simply assumed the store was at constant risk of getting robbed or burned to the ground. He hadn't had the best of luck in his own life, so Cas felt sympathy for the man. 

“Castiel, did you inventory the backup name tag pin supply?” He asked, and Castiel nodded.

“Yes, sir.” They had sixteen boxes of like, 25 pins. He can't even remember the last time anyone needed one. “All good for the sale tomorrow.”

“Okay, good. Thanks. This is a good time to have a sale, right? Middle of the month, end of the week, people just getting paid?”

Castiel nodded sincerely. “We'll be nice and busy tomorrow.”

Chucks eyes narrowed. “Not too busy, you think? Should I hire more Angels? I don't want you guys getting bogged down.”

“It's fine,” Castiel said. “We can handle it. You hired the best.”

Chuck nodded, but didn't seem convinced. His eyes darted back and forth, clearly running over everything in his mind. Castiel laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, which Chuck stared at. He withdrew it slowly.

“Um, I'm going to see how we're doing on toilet paper in the employee bathroom,” he said, and Castiel sighed, watching Chuck scurry off to wash his hands. He should know better than to touch Chuck, especially on his arms. They may have been covered by his pristine white suit (which he bleach-cleaned every day).

Chuck wasn't your type-A hypochondriac, more a type-Z. Castiel knew that he started the store after he was struck by lightning a few years ago, and lived in constant paranoia that it would happen again. 'After all,' Chuck would say, 'your chances of getting struck by lightning exponentially increase when you've already been struck once.'

That somehow twisted into his weird burden of control, where Chuck needed to have power but desperately didn't want it. 

Castiel wanted to support his boss as much as he could, but the stress of keeping the rules straight got a little pressing sometimes. Chuck seemed to have taken a liking to him over the past few days, though, so Castiel just assumed it was time to get used to it.

He turned to go check with Michael on how the sales of the AMD Core processors were going, when he saw Anna waving him down from the Angel desk. How he saw her, he wasn't sure, because she was pretty much entirely blocked by an enormous mountain of a person.

Castiel walked over, eyeing the man up-and-down. Castiel sat pretty tall at 6 feet, but this guy had at least four inches on him. When Cas caught his eye, though, he offered a thousand-watt smile that instantly put Cas at ease. 

“Hi, Castiel?” He asked, and Cas found himself sort of preening at the question. The guy had a soft, deep voice, and was definitely not hard on the eyes. And asking for _him._

“Yes, can I help you?”

“I hope so,” he said, and Cas nodded for him to continue. “My name is Sam Winchester. You have a laptop here, my brother Dean brought it in.”

The warmth fell from Castiel's smile before he could stop it. Dean couldn't even come in here himself. “Yes,” he said shortly.

“I was just wondering if maybe it was done yet?” Sam asked, sounding perfectly pleasant and polite. Cas frowned.

“I would have called him if it were ready,” he said. Sam's smile dropped at Castiel's tone. “I still intend to do so.”

“Oh. Sure.” Sam definitely sounded offended, but Castiel was finding it difficult to care. For all he knew, Sam was just like his brother: charming, good with words, and a total asshole. “It's just kind of important.”

“They all are,” Castiel replied evenly. Sam gave him a curt nod.

“Fine, I'll pass the message along. I'll also tell him I couldn't find the Castiel he's been talking about all week, because you're definitely not him.”

Cas stood there, stunned, as Sam turned on heel and walked out. Anna glanced over at him but Cas busied himself with running as far away from the desk as he could to hide in their music section. The Castiel Dean had been talking about all week? Bragging about, maybe. Castiel glowered, busying himself by cataloging the smooth jazz section.

He hardly paid attention the rest of the day. He was almost as distracted as the first day he hung up with Dean, except now he was focused on his conversation with Sam. He supposed it could have gone a little more smoothly. It's not like Cas had any intention of wanting to impress Dean's family; after all, Dean couldn't even show up himself to ask about the computer. 

Castiel wondered what Dean was doing that day. He wondered how he asked Sam to come over to Tech Heaven, ask for him, adding insult to injury. He wondered if Dean was satisfied with himself.

Chuck barely gets out his “thank you,” to Castiel and the end of the day before Cas is slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading out the door. So, he may have made a bad impression on his boss. Sam might file a complaint. The next day was the Rapture Sale, and Castiel was pretty sure Anna would want to have some kind of _talk_.

Cas spent most of the night wondering how Dean fucked him up this badly. 

The next day, Castiel woke ten minutes before his alarm went off. Rapture Sale. His chest was tight and sleep weighed heavy on his eyelids, grogginess blanketing his morning. He dragged his way through his coffee and toast, checked his watch, and ended up jogging to the bus stop. 

The morning was gray and chilly, the perfect sort of day to feel like shit. Castiel took full advantage of the atmosphere and huddled into himself, glowering at the sticky floor of the bus. The other patrons blinked lazily with morning, staring out windows and filling in crossword puzzles. 

What's a seven-letter word for 'deluded, easily-manipulated, gullible moron who had phone sex with a client and was subsequently dumped like a sack of potatoes?' Castiel rubbed the heel of his hands into his eyes. 

There was a line at the Tech Heaven door when Castiel arrived. He slipped around the back and entered the code on the door, shouldering in, to be met with the buzzing, anxious atmosphere of the store. Even Gabriel was clearing off his desk, preparing for the undoubted slew of Prayers coming his way. Anna greeted him without her usual pitying smile, instead looking all-business, hair pulled back tight.

“All right, Cas, hi. We might have you up front with me for a few hours, Chuck will be popping in and out-”

Castiel balked. “What? With customers? I'm terrible with customers.”

Anna rolled his eyes. “You're fine. And you're handsome, and they'll love you.”

“What about Gabriel?” Cas tried weakly. 

“Gabriel's brand of communication is best left to the back room, don't you think?” She said grimly, and Gabriel saluted from his desk. Castiel glared at him for a moment and turned back to Anna, pleading.

“Why can't someone from sales do it?” His last attempt, and he knew it'd be shot down before it left his mouth.

Anna tsked. “You know they get twice the workload we do during these events. Come on, it'll only be for a little while. You can do it, Cas.”

“Okay,” Castiel glumly acquiesced, pinning on his name tag and smoothing his hair absentmindedly. Anna ushered him up front to the desk just as Chuck was opening the doors, customers filling in to occupy every free square foot in the store. Castiel smiled, took Prayers. Got hit on a couple times, to which he politely said no. Gave some advice, saved some people money, and handed out a couple business cards. The day passed.

“I can help who's next,” he announced to the line. A guy approached the counter, looking tired, but handsome. Bit of a five o'clock shadow, tall, broad. He had those crinkles next to his eyes- laugh lines, Castiel realized. Nice eyes. Soft green. He blinked and remembered his role, clearing his throat. “Hi, Sir. Can I answer your Prayer today?”

“Oh, I certainly think so,” the man replied, in that deep, rough voice that Cas had become so familiar with. His jaw fell open as his mind reeled, circling the drain. 

“Dean?” He said softly.

Dean chuckled, glancing around him at the frenzy of customers. “I guess I really came here on the wrong day.”

Castiel struggled with where to go. Dean was much more good looking than Gabriel had let on, and now he was seeing _Cas_ for the first time and wasn't pretending like he didn't know him. Paranoia mixed with excitement and a pinch of nausea bubbled in Castiel's stomach.

“I-”

Dean held up a hand to stop him. “Hey, don't say anything. I came here to apologize for being short with you on the phone yesterday. Probably gave you the wrong idea.”

Castiel couldn't find the words to answer, was only stunned silent by Dean leaning forward on the desk, leaning into Cas. He fought the urge to lean away.

“I'm not the type to love 'em and leave 'em, Cas,” he said quietly, and his voice fired right into Castiel's gut. He actually shivered, and judging by the way his grin grew, Dean noticed. “I hope I didn't hurt your feelings.”

“N-no,” Castiel lied. He just wanted to look at Dean while listening to his voice for as long as possible. “You didn't. It's okay.”

“You sure? Sam told me you were pretty icy with him yesterday.”

Castiel ducked his head in shame. “Okay, I was kind of angry. But I...” Dean stood there, looking at him so earnestly, eyebrows raised in expectancy. “I'm not anymore.”

Dean brightened, subtly brushing his fingers against Castiel's. “I'm glad. I'd be devastated. You make one sexy Angel, Cas.”

Castiel really didn't want to have to hide an erection at work, but he supposed it couldn't get any worse. He pressed himself gently against the wall of the desk, a movement that Dean also managed to track. Cas briefly considered running for it.

“Um-”

“Everything going all right here?” Chuck interrupted, nervously squeezing Castiel's shoulder. Dean straightened up, his eyes widening with excitement, and Castiel could feel panic setting in.

“You must be Chuck,” Dean said, hardly able to keep the edge of giddiness out of his voice. “I absolutely love the suit. It's _divine _.”__

__Chuck narrowed his eyes at Dean and Castiel wondered if he could crawl into a hole somewhere and avoid this inevitable trainwreck of a conversation._ _

__“Uh, yeah. Thanks. Can I help you with your Prayer today?”_ _

__Dean nodded. “Well, your Angel Castiel here was doing an excellent job. He's very pious. But I'm not going to turn down help from the big man himself.”_ _

__Castiel was ushered aside but not dismissed, clearly doomed to bear witness. Chuck watched Dean warily._ _

__“What's your name, Sir?”_ _

__“Dean Winchester. I gotta say, I worship this store. I'm blessed to live so close by.”_ _

__Chuck frowned, clearly uncomfortable under Dean's pun onslaught. Castiel resisted the urge to hide his face in his hands. “Glad to hear you're pleased,” Chuck said flatly._ _

__“Honestly, I came in on a wing and a prayer, and found everything I needed. It's like I was touched by an angel.”_ _

__Castiel thought that one was a little blatant and blushed horribly. Chuck glowered, eyes darting around suspiciously while he searched for Dean's ticket. Clearly he thought he was the victim of some prank reality show, when really it was just Dean being a jackass._ _

__“I felt like I searched from here to kingdom come to find a good electronics store,” Dean went on, and Cas briefly wondered if Dean had rehearsed this._ _

__“I mean, holy cow, what a paradise. Hey,” he turned to Castiel, “do you have any Nirvana CDs?”_ _

__“Aisle three,” Cas mumbled, and Chuck pulled up Dean's ticket. Dean's ticket. Fear seized Castiel, followed quickly by panic. “Sir, I can take it from-”_ _

__“Enough,” Chuck said firmly. “I found your ticket. You're all ready to go.” Dean's smile faltered for only a moment as his eyes flickered over to Castiel._ _

__“Really? I thought I was still waiting on a part to come in,” he said, the humor completely absent from his voice. Castiel's vision started to tunnel, his gut wrenching every time Dean glanced over at him._ _

__Chuck pursed his lips, continuing to type. “Says here it came in two days ago,” he said. Cas suddenly turned on heel and ran to the back room, hearing Chuck's “must have needed quite the fix,” just as the door shut. He leaned back against it, catching his breath. He felt like the scum of the Earth._ _

__“Whoa, buddy, what happened?” Gabriel said, rising from his desk and going to Cas, steadying him by the shoulders._ _

__“Chuck pulled up Dean's ticket,” Cas said miserably. Gabriel whistled in sympathy. Cas jerked his head up, grabbing Gabe by the sleeves of his button-up. “Gabriel, I can't go out there. You have to bring him the laptop. Will you?”_ _

__Gabriel sighed. “Yeah, sure, Cas. I will.”_ _

__“Thank you,” he breathed, and went to collapse in his desk chair. Gabriel scooped up the laptop and ticket and left Cas to his thoughts._ _

__More than anything, Castiel felt horrible. Dean came down here to apologize, to make amends, only to be blindsided with Castiel's lie. Cas had spent so long being irritated with Dean that he neglected to consider the fallout from all this. He could lose his job._ _

__He spent the rest of the day looking over his shoulder, waiting for Chuck to storm in and fire him. It was mostly a blur of Prayers and customers and Gabriel being awkwardly quiet, enough that Castiel wondered if Dean yelled at him._ _

__“Cas,” Gabriel said, startling him. “It's ten, man. We're closing soon.”_ _

__Castiel sighed, looking at his remaining tickets. “Tell Anna I'll close up. I still have some things to do.”_ _

__Gabriel clicked his tongue, grabbing his keys from his desk. “Don't punish yourself too much, bro.” He stopped, one hand on the door, and glanced over the shoulder. “It's raining pretty hard out there.”_ _

__“I'll be fine,” Cas said flatly, and Gabriel left. He bid goodbye to rest of the staff as he kept working, anything to keep his mind occupied. He dreaded the inevitable cold, quiet night at his apartment filled with guilt and worry._ _

__When he finished up his last ticket, he stood, and realized how sore he was. Apparently sitting rigid and tense all day took its toll on your body. He stretched, unbuttoning the first few notches on his shirt and went to close the desk. The lights were dimmed in the wide expanse of the clean, white store, giving it this strange, dead feeling. Castiel supposed the rain pounding against the glass windows didn't help._ _

__The sales team closed most of the store, but there were a few odds and ends behind the Angel desk that needed finishing up. Closing out the register, logging Prayers. Castiel counted quietly, listening to the occasional thunderclap and blinking against the lightning. He lamented his umbrella, leaning up against his coffee table at home._ _

__He locked up the cash, shut down the computers, and stretched again. Just as he was heaving a sigh, preparing himself for his soggy walk home, he was interrupted._ _

__“Cas.”_ _

__Castiel's life briefly flashed before his eyes, as he naturally assumed he was about to get robbed. He whirled on heel and saw Dean, standing slightly wet and undoubtedly cold, behind him._ _

__“Dean,” he said, and realized he sounded terrified._ _

__“Relax, I'm not here to kill you,” Dean said, and Cas thought that maybe it sounded like a joke. Dean took a step forward, and Castiel took one back._ _

__“How did you get in here?”_ _

__He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Gabriel. We kind of assumed you'd want to stay late, so he came back to sneak me in.”_ _

__Castiel stared at Dean. “What? Since when do you talk to Gabriel? What?”_ _

__“Calm down, Cas,” Dean tried to say soothingly, but Cas hardly heard him. He realized very suddenly that he shouldn't be so scared, he should be apologizing. Profusely._ _

__“Dean, I'm so sorry,” he said, the tension falling from his shoulders. “You must be furious. I just- at first, I couldn't handle not, y'know, talking to you every day-” he paused, realizing how stupid that sounded, but Dean was listening patiently. “Then, we, well.”_ _

__“ _Very_ well,” Dean pressed, and Castiel couldn't resist a small smile._ _

__“Right, and then when you were so short the next day, I guess I-”_ _

__“Stop,” Dean said, shrugging off his wet coat. Cas swallowed hard. “I get it. Let me explain.”_ _

__Castiel stopped obediently, and Dean cleared his throat._ _

__“There's information on that laptop worth hundreds of thousands of dollars,” he began, and Castiel reeled. Dean laughed a little. “No, I'm not in the mafia. I translate ancient languages.”_ _

__Dean went on to explain that he was preparing a presentation on a recent archeological find to receive a grant. He had all of his notes and information on that laptop. He was meant to present to the National Science Foundation the day before, and was distressed that he lost them the opportunity._ _

__“That's why I was so exasperated,” he said, sounding distraught. “We might lose the dig site. We can't afford to keep excavating, and another team might take over.”_ _

__“Why didn't you back up the hard drive?” Castiel said, and instantly wanted to slap himself for being judgmental._ _

__“Because I'm an idiot,” Dean smiled sadly, shrugging. “I mean, I set my computer on fire. I'm not exactly Chuck's gift to humanity.”_ _

__He wrinkled his nose at the pun. But clarity struck Castiel. “I lost you your grant. This is my fault. If I'd gotten you your laptop back in time, you could have done your presentation.”_ _

__Dean nodded. “You're right.”_ _

__Castiel could cry. “I was only- I didn't...”_ _

__“Stop. You didn't know.”_ _

__Cas gaped at Dean. “Are you serious? I ruined-”_ _

__“Stop!” Dean said sharply, and Castiel snapped his mouth shut. “I was pretty angry at first, okay? But Gabriel talked to me and I just... can't be pissed.”_ _

__Castiel narrowed his eyes. “Why not?”_ _

__Dean started advancing on him, and Castiel nearly tripped over himself walking backwards, keeping his eyes locked on the other man._ _

__“He told me how nuts you've been over me,” Dean started, and Cas could feel his blush rising. “How you looked when we talked on the phone. And Sam told me how angry you were when you'd thought I'd blown you off.”_ _

__“So, you're willing to forgive me because I have a crush on you?” Castiel said disbelievingly, jumping as his back hit the cold glass of the front door. He bit his tongue._ _

__Dean shook his head.“No.” He kept walking toward Cas, crowding him against the door. Cas stood stiffly as Dean leaned in, nosing against his cheek, breathing against his ear. “I'm willing to forgive you because _I_ have a crush on _you._ ”_ _

__They kissed, then, Dean boxing Cas in, pressing him into the glass door. Cas allowed himself exactly one moment to be nervous, before Dean hummed gently against him and instinct took over. Castiel's hands instantly wound around his waist, Dean's skin cool and damp under his cotton shirt. As soon as he responded it was like he flipped a switch in the other man._ _

__Dean kissed nothing like Castiel imagined he would. He had pictured him languid, confident. Instead he got fevered movements, Dean's hands never stilling, gripping at different pressure along Cas' arms, hips, cheeks. His mouth was soft and wet, tongue barely leaving Castiel's alone. Cas made a little surprised sound and Dean only pressed in harder, encouraged._ _

__Cas pushed his hands up the back of Dean's shirt, letting his hands drag along the skin he'd been thinking about for the past week. Dean slid his leg between Castiel's, one hand going up to cup Cas' jaw while the other began sliding Castiel's buttons from the slots. Cas pulled back, breathless._ _

__“Wait,” he said, and Dean groaned, leaning his forehead against Castiel's._ _

__“Why?” He asked, and hearing that voice so close to him paired with the soft puff of his breath, Cas almost changed his mind._ _

__“There are cameras everywhere, we're at my _job_ ,” Cas whispered, unsure why he felt that urge. Dean shook his head._ _

__“Erase the tapes later.” He leaned in, kissing the curve of Castiel's neck very lightly. Castiel's legs lost a bit of feeling._ _

__“Is this your elaborate way at getting me back? Fuck me at work and get me fired?” Castiel teased, then realized his tone was a bit accusatory._ _

__Thankfully, Dean just huffed a laugh against his neck, then moved up to his ear. “That what you want, Cas? For me to fuck you?”_ _

__Castiel swallowed hard. He knew that Dean could feel how hard he was, his thigh pressed between Castiel's legs. His hips twitched upward, and Dean surged back in. He licked his way back into Cas' mouth, hands going back to his buttons. He pushed the shirt aside, off Castiel's shoulders, letting it fall to their feet._ _

__Cas shivered with the exposure but just shoved closer into Dean's space, bringing their hips flush together. Dean ground hard against him, revealing to Castiel just how into this he was. “Fuck,” Castiel breathed out, and Dean put a finger to his lips._ _

__“Don't swear,” he mumbled, fingers slipping down to loosen the button of Castiel's work pants, humor shining behind his eyes. “Angels don't swear.”_ _

__Cas rolled his eyes, but Dean was dropping to his knees and Castiel forgot entirely what he was upset over. Dean yanked Castiel's pants down, letting them pool around his ankles, his hands slowly sliding up Castiel's bare legs to rest on his ass. Leaning back against the cool glass, Castiel attempted to catch his breath._ _

__It was all in vain, though, as Dean slid a hand around to cup his erection, and all the air whooshed out of his lungs in one fell swoop. At the first touch of Dean's tongue to his cock, Castiel was gone. A clap of thunder outside made him jolt._ _

__He wasn't sure when his hands wound into Dean's hair, but he thought it must have been around the same time that Dean had his nose pressed into Cas' skin, swallowing his dick all the way down. Dean gave head like his life depended on it, all hands and soft tongue and warm breath. He masterfully reduced Castiel to a mess, squirming in Dean's tight grip on his hips, mouth agape._ _

__Dean pulled back, stroking tight and fast, and Cas was able to briefly catch his breath. He used it all on one light, airy, “Dean.”_ _

__As Dean happily descended on him again, Castiel took a brief moment to consider his predicament. Getting incredible head from a hot near-stranger who really should have been much more furious with him than he was. Castiel must have done something to appease some sort of higher power, because he definitely didn't deserve this._ _

__Cas let out a noise he'd never made before when Dean started mouthing around the head of his cock, pressing his flat tongue just under the ridge and breathing hot over the sensitive skin. He knew he was wet with precome, because Dean kept greedily lapping it up while stroking Cas' stomach with his free hand. It was getting too close, and Cas had to put a stop to it before he came in Dean's warm mouth._ _

__Dean slid back and panted as Cas yanked him up to his feet. He dove in for a kiss, opening his mouth to Dean's exploratory tongue. He could taste all kinds of things on the other man's tongue, caught up in a myriad of overstimulation. He started to fiddle with Dean's pants, slipping his hand inside and palming his erection. Dean's breath hitched in Castiel's ear and his hips rolled forward as his tongue gently touched Castiel's earlobe._ _

__“Mmm,” he murmured, his hands bracketing Castiel's hips, squeezing firmly. Cas jerked forward, his grip tightening around Dean's cock. He responded by flipping Cas around, pressing him against the glass door and blanketing himself against Cas' back._ _

__Dean's hands were everywhere, hot on the bare skin of his chest and stomach, skittering further down with light touches. When one hand moved to gently press its thumb against the small of his back, Cas very suddenly knew where this was going. Dean hesitated, clearly asking permission to push further._ _

__Before he had a chance to talk himself out of it, Cas arched back, letting Dean know exactly how on board he was. Dean growled against Castiel's neck, knocking Cas' legs further apart with his knee._ _

__“D'you-”_ _

__“Mmhmm,” Dean mumbled back, turning Cas' head so he could kiss his mouth. Cas was only given a second to wonder from where Dean procured the lube before he was again falling apart at the mercy of Dean's hands. His fingers were long and thick, stroking and scissoring inside of him, crooking against his prostate and rubbing mercilessly. Dean opened him up masterfully, leaving him panting and squirming, pushing back for more._ _

__“Dean, come on, enough,” he murmured, pressing his cheek into the cold glass. Rain pounded hard on the windows, which were fogging up from Cas breath against them. Another thunderclap made him jerk, spreading his legs out._ _

__“Okay, okay,” Dean breathed in a chuckle, raking his teeth lightly against Cas' shoulder. He pulled his fingers out and squeezed Cas' ass, drawing out a squeak from his throat. He smirked and pressed his cock against Cas' entrance, rubbing it there for a moment, nosing at the back of Cas' neck. “Ready?”_ _

__Cas nodded furiously and braced himself as Dean pushed in, his fists clenching tight. His breath came out in little puffs, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he really began to realize where he was and what he was doing. Pants around his ankles, a mostly-clothed near-stranger fucking him against the front door of the store._ _

__“Oh, God,” he groaned, pressing his forehead against the cool glass. Dean took that as a good sign, his hand splaying wide on Castiel's stomach. He started to move slowly, enough that Castiel was able to catch up with himself. His free hand drifted down to his cock, which he started to jack rhythmically against Dean's thrusts._ _

__“Shouldn't blaspheme,” Dean muttered, and Cas managed to laugh quietly._ _

__“Is this really the right time to give me notes on my job performance?” He asked weakly._ _

__Dean licked the crux of his neck to shoulder. “Great customer service,” he said into Cas' skin, resting a hand on his ass. Cas almost argued; his customer service was legitimately terrible, particularly in Dean's case. But the words died on his tongue when Dean sped up, Cas moving his hand faster on his cock to match. Dean moved both hands to Cas' waist, squeezing the pliant body, and Cas gasped._ _

__Castiel tipped his head back against Dean's shoulder, and was met with Dean's mouth covering his. The awkward angle didn't lend to a neat kiss, instead it was mostly breath and tongue and quiet noises. Dean's thrusts stayed strong and deep, reducing Cas to a whimpering mess._ _

__Cas caught the red from the camera blinking at the back of his mind, and he got a tiny little thrill remembering they were sort of being watched. Recorded, anyway. He wriggled back against Dean, grinding against him, making Dean grunt with surprise and pleasure. The rain outside was falling in thick, grey sheets, pounding hard against the pavement under the dull hum of the Tech Angel sign. If anyone walked by, they'd get quite the eyeful._ _

  


__He spread his legs further, bracing himself against the door frame. Dean started hitting Castiel's prostate pretty consistently and he started grinding back against him, trying to get that feeling to stay. He knew he was making embarrassing noises, but so was Dean, even as his hand moved around to knock Cas' away from his erection. Dean gripped his cock and Cas knew he was going to come any second._ _

__“Dean,” he all-but moaned as he thumbed the head of Cas' dick, then started jerking him off with abandon. Cas was temporarily impressed at Dean's coordination, until his thrusts started to become a bit more erratic. Knowing he was doing this to Dean, making him so overwhelmed that he couldn't focus, that he was moaning, was enough for Cas to feel like he was on top of the world._ _

__Cas was pushing forward into Dean's hand and back onto his cock, completely caught up in the moment. Dean was all over him, hands on his chest and hips and raking through his hair, jerking him off and pushing his fingers into Cas' mouth. He sucked on them, rubbing his tongue against the fingertips, and Dean panted warm into his ear. He pulled his fingers out, pushing them up Cas' shirt to rub at his chest._ _

__“Fuck, you're perfect,” he whispered. “I'm gonna-”_ _

__“Me too, don't stop,” Cas demanded, and Dean straightened up, pushing in harder and faster. He moved his hand quickly over Cas' dick, sending full-body shivers all over Castiel's body._ _

__Dean gave a particularly hard thrust and Cas stumbled forward as he came, his leg hitting the trigger at the bottom of the door and drowning them in the familiar angelic chorus. Castiel collapsed against the door as Dean gripped his hip hard, grinding into Cas' body._ _

__Cas couldn't help but start laughing, the angels singing above their heads on a loop until he kicked at the switch again. Dean kept his arms wound around Castiel's waist, holding him upright as he tried to catch his breath. When he finally pulled out, Cas turned around in his arms, amusement still shining in his eyes._ _

__“What's so funny?” Dean asked, smirking, kissing the side of Cas' mouth._ _

__Castiel raised an eyebrow, gesturing back toward the door. “The angel chorus.”_ _

__Dean glanced over, then back at Cas. “You mean that wasn't real?”_ _

__Cas laughed and shoved at Dean, leaning down to pull his pants up. “There's an employee bathroom over there so you can get cleaned up. I should erase those tapes.” He started to move past Dean but was stopped when he grabbed Cas' wrists, dragging him back into his arms._ _

__“Not so fast,” he said, ducking his face into Cas' neck. “You can't just leave me here covered in come and not even cuddle.”_ _

__Castiel melted against Dean, tipping his head back to allow him to mouth at his throat. “Sorry,” he mumbled._ _

__“Nah, I don't blame you. This wasn't the most romantic of first dates.”_ _

__“First?” Castiel repeated, and Dean rolled his eyes._ _

__“No. When I want a one-night stand, I definitely hunt them down at work after-hours and risk getting arrested on their behalf,” he said flatly. Cas laughed nervously, shame starting to creep up the back of his neck. He was getting fired for sure. He reluctantly pulled away from Dean again, who made a noise of protest._ _

__“I have to get to those tapes,” he explained. “I can throw on a loop of last night, Chuck will never know.”_ _

__“Smart _and_ handsome,” Dean sighed, pressing a hand to his chest. “be still my beating heart.” He grinned and walked toward the employee bathroom, leaving Castiel alone long enough to have an honest-to-god panic attack. _ _

__Castiel walked unsteadily to the office, scanning his ID card and pushing it open when it unlocked. He sat heavily in the chair and pulled up the video editor, hiding his head in his hands for a moment. He ran over the events of the last hour, shivering slightly. Dean wasn't pissed. He was the _opposite_ of pissed. He should be more pissed. _ _

__He clicked back to before their tryst, curiosity consuming him. He chose sometime midday, when Dean had first come in and blindsided Castiel with his smile and flirting. He watched himself panic and run, and Dean straighten up in confusion. He clearly exchanged some heated words with Chuck, who cringed fearfully._ _

__But then Gabriel came out with the laptop. Cas watched him talk to Dean, and watched the tension bleed from Dean's posture. He even saw his shoulders slump a little, a position he'd never seen or imagined on his frame. He stuck his hand across the counter, presumably to shake Gabriel's, but Gabe turned it down. He put the laptop on the counter, pushing it toward him, with another few sharp words._ _

__Castiel was drowning in curiosity. What had Gabriel said that convinced Dean to just let go of his anger like that? He didn't know if he had the right to ask. He fast-forwarded, just a little bit, to when Dean had startled him that night after hours. He watched as Dean advanced on him, and they kissed, and-_ _

__“Watching the instant replay?” Dean shocked him out of his reverie, and he nearly fell back in his chair._ _

__“No! Just trying to find a spot to edit,” Cas said hastily, but Dean just laughed._ _

__“I'm pretty sure you should start _before_ I show up,” he advised, coming up behind Castiel in his computer chair and sliding his hands down his arms, nuzzling into his neck._ _

__Cas shrugged him away, keeping his gaze firmly on the computer. “Knock it off, my job's at stake.”_ _

__“Well, so was mine, and you don't see me whining about it.”_ _

__Just before that wave of guilt could come crashing down, Dean pinched Castiel's cheek affectionately. Cas still didn't feel like he knew the entire story, there, but he could grill Gabriel in the morning._ _

__“You should go,” he said to Dean, who narrowed his eyebrows._ _

__“Are you kicking me out after our date?” He said, pouting and Cas rolled his eyes._ _

__“If we walk out together, there will be footage of you in the store. I'll meet you outside,” he added, then bit his lip. “If you want.”_ _

__Dean was at his ear then, breathing into it. “Oh, I want.”_ _

__“Get out of here!” Castiel chided, and Dean chuckled, taking his leave._ _

__It only took Cas a few minutes to fix the footage and add a little glitch for when he'd be leaving the office. He finished up what little was left of his duties, and met Dean outside. He was leaning up against a black classic car, tapping something out on his phone._ _

__“Who's that?” Castiel asked casually, slinging his messenger bag over his shoulders. Dean glanced up, clearly amused at Cas' jealousy, and snapped the phone shut._ _

__“Just Sam,” he said. “He's pretty pissed that I came back here. Apparently you're not worth it,” he said, and a rock sat heavily in Castiel's stomach. Maybe Sam was right. He'd lost them so much, too much- “Oh, for fuck's sake. Get out of your head.”_ _

__Cas frowned. “What?”_ _

__Dean just rolled his eyes, unlocking the car and gesturing for Cas to get in. At his hesitation, Dean shook his head. “You're so fucking stubborn. I'm not mad at you, it's going to rain again, Sammy's a douche, and we just had awesome sex so we should probably go get a drink. Okay?”_ _

__“Okay,” Cas said obediently, and slid into the car._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [follow me on tumblr.](http://dandelionwhiskey.tumblr.com)


	3. Learn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They learn.

“Three times?” Dean said incredulously, reaching across the table to steal one of Castiel’s fries. “Who gets struck by lightning three times?” 

Castiel shrugged, batting at Dean’s hand and ignoring his pout. “Chuck, apparently.”

Dean snaked his other hand around and managed to secure a french fry, dragging it through Castiel’s ketchup. “If you don’t elaborate I’m going to spontaneously combust,” he said, chewing.

Castiel rolled his eyes, tugging his plate closer to him. “After the first time, he was pretty sure it was going to happen again. Crazy paranoid. So, whenever it rained he would run and hide. He just happened to choose a car under a tree, and the lightning struck the car.”

Dean gaped at him. “That’s ridiculous. That doesn’t happen.”

“It happened to him,” Castiel pointed out.

“So, what about the third time?”

Castiel shook his head. “He doesn’t talk about the third time. All we know is that he woke up in the hospital and immediately bought the store. His signature on the lease is all wobbly because he couldn’t hold his hand straight.”

Dean was laughing, but Castiel wasn’t entirely sure it was a happy story. Either way, Dean’s smile was contagious and Cas found himself wearing a small smirk, swirling a fry in his ketchup. 

They’d pulled into a dive bar just a mile away from Tech Heaven. The place was mostly deserted, save for Dean and Castiel and a few grizzled men at the bar. Their burgers were greasy and mildly undercooked, the fries clearly frozen, but it was better than a fourth TV dinner this week. Plus, the company wasn’t all bad.

They talked easily, like they did on the phone, except now Cas could see the crinkles at the side of Dean’s eyes and how perfect his teeth were, and how he’d run his hand through his short hair when he laughed. He also knew how Dean’s mouth tasted, among other things, and how good it felt to be-

He stopped his train of thought before it got too far out of control. He realized Dean had been talking and he was completely not listening. He was having a hard time doing that, especially while Dean licked his lips and stole his food like they’d been dating for months.

“You’re not listening to a word I’m saying,” Dean laughed, and Cas managed to snap out of his stupor. 

“Yes I am,” he argued gently, taking a potato chip from Dean’s plate. “You were talking about your archaeology.”

Dean smirked. “Not even close. But that was a subtle way to flatter me and change the subject. Well, it would have been, if I were an archaeologist.”

Cas rolled his eyes, munching on his potato chip. “So, you’re _not_ Indiana Jones?” He said with mock disappointment.

“No whips at my apartment, sorry to say,” he drawled, winking. Castiel blushed furiously, belatedly realizing that he’s completely unable to flirt face-to-face with this man. “My brother is the cool one. I’ve just been working on his dig with him, translating some ancient shit he found.”

“Sounds technical,” Castiel said dryly, earning another chuckle from Dean. 

“I take my job seriously,” Dean argued with very little weight behind his words. “I’m even sleeping with my technical adviser.”

Cas willed the tips of his ears to _not_ turn red, but he seemed to not have any control over that. The way Dean put it, it was like it was a routine they had. He felt the overwhelming urge to clear the air. “I don’t- I don’t do that sort of thing,” he mumbled, then realized how ridiculous he must have looked.

“What’s that?” Dean asked, counting off on his fingers. “Sleep with a client? Sleep with a man? Go out to dinner with the man after sex? Fuck in your store? Bottom? Get fu-“

Castiel held up his hands to get Dean to stop, laughing, ducking his head to the table. So, there had been a lot of firsts for him tonight, sure. “Sleep with someone the first time I meet them,” he explained and Dean raised an eyebrow.

“C’mon, Cas. We’ve known each other at least a week. You jerked off for me, remember?”

“How could I forget,” he mumbled, narrowing his eyes at Dean. He’d come very close to getting caught that day.

“This is hardly our first date, that’s all,” he said reassuringly, patting Castiel on the arm. Cas smiled but he didn’t quite believe it; he still felt like he’d put forth an image of himself that Dean would make all kinds of assumptions about.

“I don’t want you thinking I’m easy,” Cas said, shrugging. “I’m usually the opposite.” He hadn’t gone on a date in nearly a year. He just never found it compelling. There were times when he’d wonder what the draw was at all. Until he started talking to Dean, of course.

“Usually?” Dean grinned, cupping his hand over the back of Castiel’s. “So, I just have an effect on you, hm?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Castiel said, but it was true. He knocked Dean’s hand off of his, reaching for his wallet. Dean made a noise of protest. Castiel leveled a glare at him, pleased when Dean backed off and let him pay. “You can get next time.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Next time?”

Cas signed his receipt, leaving a decent tip for the bartender. “You did say you aren’t the type to ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’, didn’t you?” 

“You’re goddamn right,” Dean said sincerely. Cas felt something flutter in his stomach, something about how Dean would probably stick around far longer than Cas would have ever assumed.

“You know a lot about me,” Castiel said, “I know almost nothing about you. Besides that you’re a translator and your brother hates me.”

Dean waved him off. “He doesn’t hate you, he’s just pissed you potentially lost us thousands of dollars. It’s understandable, really.” Castiel did not feel reassured by that. Dean noticed him glowering and leaned forward, catching Castiel’s gaze. “Hey, relax. He’ll come around, okay? He just has to see you when you don’t think I’ve used you for sex.”

“So, never,” Castiel managed to joke, and Dean seemed pleased. Castiel liked seeing that expression on his face. He wanted to see it a lot more often.

“Seriously, Cas,” Dean said determinedly. “Sam will love you. He’s a good kid, he just really loves this project.”

“What is the project?” Castiel asked. His curiosity was eating away at him. Dean sighed, though, offering a small shrug.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just get the tablets and translate them for Sam. I don’t know where they’re digging or why, it’s all confidential. Well, it was.” 

“That sounds important,” Castiel said miserably. Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed Castiel’s hand, sliding out of the booth they were in. 

Castiel followed, unable to resist a small smirk as Dean led him outside. Dean was just not going to let him feel guilty, and as ridiculous as it was, Castiel felt overwhelmingly flattered. He yelped in surprise when Dean whirled him around and pressed his back against the cool brick of the restaurant, tilting his head in close. 

Cas blinked, hands gripping the front of Dean’s jacket, his eyes locked on his mouth. “Um,” he offered intelligently.

“Um,” Dean said firmly, and leaned in to kiss him. It was short, though lingering, as Castiel could still feel him even as he pulled away. Cas automatically licked his lips, then instantly felt silly.

He slid his hands down Dean’s jacket, tugging on the bottom. “I should get home,” he sighed. “I’ve got work in the morning. Might get fired. Should be prepared for that.”

“You’re not going to get fired,” Dean argued, “but, fine. I’ll take you home. I’ve already had my way with you, after all.”

The car ride back was filled with the same unending chatter as their date had been. It was like they couldn’t stop finding things to talk about. In the ten minute span, Castiel was pretty sure he’d spilled his entire life story in the ten minute span between the restaurant and his apartment.

He’d learned a little bit about Dean as well; like how he was a high school dropout who got his GED and had a knack for puzzles. How he preferred pie to cake, and how Sam was clearly the more important thing in his life.

When he dropped Castiel off, he thankfully didn’t ask to come inside. He just leaned across the seat, pressed a kiss to the side of Cas’ mouth, and patted his cheek. Castiel slid out of the car, feeling like he was moving through molasses as he made his way back to his apartment.

The room seemed so small, suddenly. 

He moved through his apartment clumsily, like a stranger in his home, awkward and outgrown. His schedule felt short, empty, and he was unfulfilled as he went about his daily business. Not enough clothes to launder, not enough dishes to wash. He felt magnetized to the door, every step feeling like he was pulling against this unseen force attempting to drag him back to Dean. He broke a mug and left the pieces on the tile, wandering out of the kitchen to sit uncomfortably in his favorite chair.

He tried to believe that he wasn't being completely controlled by Dean. That his cleaning his room wasn't about whether Dean may show up uninvited. That his packing a light lunch wasn't because Dean might want to go out. That he wasn't completely unsure and unsettled because of this man who'd come in and completely destroyed what he thought he had all figured out.

Castiel was never much of a romantic, but it seemed like he was willing to learn how.

His shower was long and thorough, though he found himself disappointed by the hot water washing his aches away. His back soothed, he no longer had proof that what happened that day was real. Dean could have been a complete figment of his imagination. It wouldn't be surprising, either, considering how strangely forgiving he seemed to be. Even if Cas lost his job at Tech Heaven over Dean's late night intrusion, he wasn't sure he'd be able to forgive him that easily.

Not that he was entirely to blame, of course.

Castiel finally slept around dawn, not even bothering to hit the snooze on his alarm three hours later. He didn't feel tired. He rolled out of bed and dug his warm work clothes from the dryer, lazily pulling them on as he brewed a pot of coffee out of habit. He stepped around the shards of the broken mug on the floor, making a mental note to take care of that later.

When he got to work, Anna shoved a stack of Prayers into his arms and mentioned that Chuck was out for the day. Cas was simultaneously relieved and exasperated; that meant another evening of worrying about getting fired. Chuck was intensively paranoid about the security tapes, always thinking someone may have been stealing from them. Not that there was any proof of that- unless Castiel missed something. If there was even a minor noticeable skip in the tape, Chuck would hone in on it like a hawk. He was positive he seamed the recordings up correctly, but he couldn't help feeling doomed.

Gabriel was on the phone with a client when Cas walked in, nodding in his direction while Cas set his Prayers in his inbox. He glanced over at the wall of electronics just waiting for him to fix them, and sighed. He thought that falling for someone meant colors were brighter, he'd have a song in his heart, and everything would feel new and exciting. Instead he felt dulled, greys peeking out at him from every corner, sounds irritating and muffled. He dragged his first laptop over to the desk, glancing over the ticket order before popping keyboard up to get at the motherboard.

"Have a bless'd day," Gabriel finished, clicking his headset off. "Hey, Castiel." He rolled his chair over to Cas' desk and waggled his eyebrows. "How'd your date go last night?"

"Shh!" Cas said, glancing over his shoulder. "You're gonna get us fired," he admonished.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Chuck isn't going to fire you over a customer being in the store a little late."

Castiel knew that he started blushing by the way Gabriel's eyes widened and the grin that split out on his face. Cas groaned and put his head in his hands, sighing heavily. "Don't tell Anna," he mumbled.

"You didn't," Gabriel said suspiciously. "No way. Not you."

Cas peeked out from between his fingers. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're just- you know- you! You're Cas!" He sputtered. "You're not exactly the most spontaneous Angel in the garrison, all right?"

Cas resisted the urge to flip him off, instead letting his hands drop to his desk defiantly. "Yeah, well, it happened." A thought occurred to him. "He said it was something you said. What did you say?"

Gabriel raised his eyebrows with a shrug. "Just that you're, you know, in love with him."

"Gabriel!" Castiel snapped, eyes wide. If Dean thought something like that-

"Relax," he said. "Not in those words. Just that you don't shut up about him, and you wore nice pants for your phone sex date."

Castiel glared at him. At least if he got fired, he'd never have to see him again. "But he wasn't angry at all," Cas said. "He told me I lost him a major opportunity. Thousands of dollars."

Gabriel squinted one eye, thinking back. "I don't know. Maybe your baby blues were enough to douse his rage."

Castiel had a very strong, immediate feeling that Gabriel was a gigantic fucking liar.

But Anna came in, then, with a load of tickets for Gabriel, who'd apparently been slacking off the last few days. He said he'd had to pick up twice the work load when Cas was lovelorn, which piqued Anna's interest but Cas refused to talk about it. He just dove into his work, trying to make it all the way though his tickets without being too distracted by Dean fucking Winchester's smile grinning at him from behind his eyelids every time he blinked.

It was the first day that had passed in a while where he didn't have to call Dean, and didn't have any reason to expect a call from him. The phone rang, but it was always other clients checking up on the progress of their prayers. Cas didn't know why he'd was even hoping Dean would call; it would only make him feel worse not having him nearby. Which was a horrifying and clingy thought that Castiel did away with as soon as it crossed his mind.

He was still a near-stranger. Sure, Cas probably knew him better than some people he'd gone on several dates with, but Cas was too cautious to jump into things unceremoniously. Wasn't he? He was pretty sure. Maybe.

"You haven't said a word in three hours," Gabriel complained. "Keep me company, this guy's computer is so bogged down by viruses it'll take hours to clean off."

Castiel sighed, putting down his mini-screwdriver. He was pretty far ahead on his Prayers, he could take a little break. "What do you want?"

"What do you know about Sam?" Gabriel asked, twirling the pen between his fingers.

"Sam?" Cas said, raising an eyebrow. "As in, Sam Winchester? The guy who hates me?"

"Yeah, that Sam," he said excitedly, putting his pen down.

Castiel glared at Gabriel suspiciously. "Why?"

Gabe just shrugged, twirling a little in his chair. "He's …tall."

"Oh, God, do you have a thing for him? He hates me!" Cas protested, narrowing his eyes at his coworker. 

"So?" Gabriel said with a grin. "He doesn't hate me."

Cas shook his head, unable to even believe what he was hearing. “Is this what you wanted to talk about? Hitting on my-” He paused, not really sure what he could call Dean. His boyfriend? That guy he’s dating? He shook his head. “-Dean’s brother?” 

Gabriel shrugged. “So what?” 

“So, it’s fucked up, Gabriel!” Cas snapped. He sighed as he felt a delicate hand fall on his shoulder, and looked up to see Anna smiling down at him.

“Come on, Cas. You have to watch your language. What if a customer had heard you?”

“Sorry, Anna,” Cas mumbled, thoroughly admonished. 

He was saved from explaining himself further by the buzzing of his cell phone: a text from Dean. **/Come over for dinner tonight./**

“Is that your boyfriend? Ask him if his brother is single,” Gabriel said. “Actually, nevermind. It doesn’t matter.”

“You’re an ass,” Castiel said, typing out his response. **/Okay. Are you cooking?/**

**/Sam. It’s his way of saying sorry./**

Castiel bit his lip. **/Sounds good./**

**/What are you wearing?/**

Castiel smiled, rolling his eyes. **/I’m at work, Dean./**

**/Hasn’t stopped you before. Besides, now that I know what you look like I can picture you in astounding detail./**

**/Oh yeah? What are you picturing?/** Cas hesitated before hitting send, not sure if he was ready to get himself into this. Anna was chatting with Gabriel, and Cas was ahead on his Prayers. He could take a few more minutes. He sent the text, his heart beating fast.

**/I’m at the library, I can’t sext you./**

Castiel laughed, shaking his his head. /I can jerk off at work but you can’t talk dirty to me from a library bathroom?/

**/You’re insatiable. Save some of it for tonight, you letch./**

A small shiver trickled down Castiel’s spine. **/I think I can make it./**

**/Good. Not that the window of Tech Heaven wasn’t a wonderful surface to press you against, but I have really nice sheets./**

Fuck. Cas took a shuddering breath, taking a moment before replying. **/You’re not making this easy./**

**/Am I making it hard?/**

**/I hate you,/** Castiel texted, ignoring Gabriel’s peering stare. 

**/Pick you up after work./**

“What was all that about?” Gabriel asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re all flushed. Is Dean talking dirty to you? Can I see?”

“Stop it,” Cas complained, tucking his phone into his pocket for safe keeping. He definitely didn’t want Gabriel reading those texts. “Dean was just asking me over for dinner.”

“At his house?” Gabriel asked casually, tinkering with a motherboard. “With his brother?”

Castiel sighed. 

\\\\\

The day dragged on. Castiel was too excited for the evening, and it just made everything take much longer than it should have. He thankfully got a stack of Prayers just an hour before close, distracting him just enough that when Gabriel shook the keys in his face, he jolted.

“Time to go, Loverboy,” Gabriel said. He tossed the keys to Cas and pulled on his coat. “Put in a good word for me, huh?” He winked, clicking his tongue, and headed out the door. Cas packed up his stuff and closed down shop, making sure the alarm was set before he stepped out the door. 

Dean was waiting in the parking lot, the Impala rumbling and warm as Dean leaned against it. He raised his hand in a two finger wave, which Cas mimed as he made his way over.

“Hi,” Dean grinned, pulling Cas forward by his winged nametag. Cas stumbled into Dean’s arms, meeting his lips and kissing him lightly. 

“Hi,” Castiel said, smirking a little. 

“Come on, get in the car,” Dean said, moving around to the driver’s seat. “We got quite the meal ahead of us. Sam made pie.”

“How was the library?” Castiel asked as Dean pulled onto the highway, ignoring the alluring smell of his leather jacket. Cas sort of wanted to bury his face in it, but he figured crashing the car wouldn’t be a great second date. 

Dean didn’t help matters, throwing an arm out and around the back of Cas’ seat. “Fine. I was just doing a little research for the dig.”

Cas furrowed his brow. “I thought the dig was off,” he said. Dean shook his head.

“Nah, we still have some money. We just might not be able to keep going when we run out.”

“And you’ll have to pass your research onto another team,” Castiel confirmed. Dean tapped his nose, indicating that Cas hit the nail on the head. “So why continue with the research?”

Dean shrugged. “It’s more important to learn the facts than fight over who gets credit,” he said. Cas briefly wondered if Dean could be any more of a better man.

“That’s honorable,” Castiel said softly. Dean glanced over at him, smiling.

“Everyone’s gotta have a code,” he said, winking. “Mine just happens to include seducing IT workers over the phone.”

“I thought I seduced you,” Castiel whined as Dean pulled into the driveway. The house was small, just a bungalow, but it had a garage and a backyard. Dean shared it with Sam as an effort to save money, despite their lucrative income. It kept them comfortable.

Dean put the car into park. “You did,” he said sincerely. “That voice of yours could melt steel.”

Cas just grinned and leaned over, laying a lingering kiss on Dean’s lips before hopping out of the car. “I’m starving.”

“Sam cooked enough for, like, eight people,” Dean sighed. “You’ll be full in no time. Hey! Incidental innuendo.” Dean wrapped an arm around Cas’ shoulders as they walked up the front steps. Castiel pushed at him a little, playfully, but Dean just squeezed him close. 

Dean released him when they got in the front door, leading him to the kitchen. Sam was at the stove, stirring something on the stovetop that smelled fucking delicious. He turned around, giving Cas a tight smile. 

“Hi, Castiel,” he said, holding out his hand. Cas took it tentatively, shaking it lightly.

“Sam,” he said. Cas belatedly realized he owed Sam an apology, too. Cas wasn’t entirely the victim. He didn’t think this would be the right time, though, not twelve seconds into the evening. He’d wait ‘til a beer or three.

“Dinner is almost ready,” Sam said, turning back to the stovetop. “I hope you like lamb.”

Cas nodded, maybe smiling a little too hard. He tried to reel it back a little as Dean left his side, going toward the fridge. “You want a beer, Castiel?” Dean asked. Cas nodded, maybe a little too fast. He really needed to calm down. He hoped the beer would help.

Dinner wasn’t nearly as brutal as Castiel would have expected. Sam told Castiel about the dig, about his work, and Cas could see the passion behind his eyes. It was more than apparent that Sam cared more about this project than almost everything. It definitely made Cas’ guilt flare up, but with the reassuring squeezes to his knee from Dean, he let it go. 

“That was delicious, Sam,” Cas praised, setting his fork down on his empty plate. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing, Cas,” Sam said. “It was the least I could do to make up for all the shit talk I’ve piled on you behind your back.” He smiled, but it seemed a little thin. Cas laughed weakly.

“Lay off, Sam,” Dean admonished, but Cas shook his head. 

“It’s all right, I deserve it,” Cas sighed. “I couldn’t be more sorry, Sam. I hope you can understand that.”

Sam took a sip of his beer, shrugging his shoulders. “Another dig will come along.”

Dean was glaring at Sam, but Cas couldn’t really figure out why. He had a sneaking suspicion he was missing something. Dean just took Cas’ hand and thumbed over his knuckles; admittedly the most romantic thing he’d done since they started seeing each other. Cas was completely distracted for a moment, staring down at their joined hands.

“Cas?” Dean said, snapping him out of his reverie. 

“What?”

“Sam asked you if you like your job,” he insisted, grinning a little. Castiel coughed sheepishly and looked to Sam.

“It works,” Cas said, shrugging. “I’m good at it, and it pays well. I like my coworkers.”

“Like that Gabriel guy?” Sam asked, eyes down on the plate as he pushed his mashed potatoes around. Cas narrowed his eyes at the other Winchester, blinking once.

“Yeah, like Gabriel,” he said slowly. “How do you-”

“You know, I think it’s time to clean up,” Dean said abruptly, dropping Castiel’s hand. Sam was smirking a little, but he nodded, beginning to gather the plates. Cas took the hint, shaking off the weirdness and helping to clear the table. Once they got all the dishes into the kitchen, he excused himself to the bathroom for a moment.

He looked in the mirror, taking a few breaths as he washed his hands. The night was going well, he thought. Sure, a little strangeness with Sam’s attitude, but it wasn’t so bad. He figured it would take a little while for Sam to really like him after what happened, anyway. 

When he left the bathroom, he heard some sharp dialogue coming from the kitchen. His heart sank, the brothers were definitely fighting. And he knew it could only be about him. He slowly approached the kitchen, head bowed.

“And what’s with all the ‘oh, we’ll find another dig’ bullshit? You know those things only happen once in a lifetime, you just said it to make him look like an idiot.”

“Oh, come on, I was just teasing,” Sam protested. 

Dean scoffed. “Bullshit, you’ve been an asshole to him all night.”

“He doesn’t seem to notice,” Sam pointed out, and Castiel could practically hear Dean roll his eyes.

“That makes it okay? That he didn’t catch on to your jabs?” Dean laughed. “You’re such a dick, man.”

“He cost us _two-hundred thousand dollars_ , Dean!” Sam snapped. “That’s-”

“’Scuse me,” Cas mumbled, walking into the kitchen. “I can see now that you’re still angry with me, Sam.”

Sam and Dean both looked guilty, caught, wearing the expressions of five year-olds. Castiel leaned up against the doorframe, not meeting their eyes.

“Cas,” Dean started, but Castiel shook his head.

“I can only apologize so many times, Sam,” Cas sighed. “I know I messed up. I’ve been beating myself up for it since I found out. Dean keeps telling me to let it go, that it’s not a problem, but clearly it is, to you.”

Sam steeled his jaw, waiting for Castiel to finish.

“I don’t have any plans to go anywhere,” he went on. “Dean- he kind of, came into my life unexpectedly.” Dean grinned, running a hand through his hair. Cas found it one of the sexiest little minute movements he’d ever seen, and that only proved how he felt. “But it was the best surprise I’ve ever had. So, you’re either going to have to learn to like me, or ignore me.” 

Castiel rarely spoke that much. He wasn’t really one for speeches at all. Normally, in any other circumstance, he’d run out the door and leave it behind. But something inside of him told him Dean was worth fighting for. 

Sam sighed heavily. “Cas, I don’t hate you. I’m not even really that angry with you. I’m just frustrated, okay?”

Dean came to Castiel, sliding an arm around his waist. “He’s just petulant.”

“Shut up, Dean, I’m trying to be nice to your boyfriend,” Sam said heavily.

When Dean didn’t protest the title, neither did Cas. “Carry on,” Dean said, waving his hand. 

“This dig was my life,” Sam said. “It still is. Until the day we run out of money.”

“Don’t worry,” Dean insisted, and Sam rolled his eyes.

“You keep saying that, Dean, and I don’t know why you think it’s that easy.” Sam leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. “Look, Cas, this is just a tough situation for me to swallow, all right? I’m not going to get over it.”

“Well, just keep a lid on it and we’ll be fine,” Dean said.

Castiel leaned into him gratefully, but shook his head a little. “I don’t want you to censor yourself around me, Sam. I ruined something great in your life, I understand why you’d hate me a little. Just don’t hate me a lot.”

Sam nodded. “I think I can do that, Cas.”

Castiel smiled a little. “Okay.”

“Okay!” Dean said happily, “now that we’ve all agreed that Castiel is not to be _hated_ \- seriously, Cas, take it as a compliment- I’m going to take him into my room and ravish him.”

“Dean!” Sam and Cas admonished simultaneously. Dean laughed, tugging Cas out of the kitchen.

“See you in the morning, Sammy,” Dean twittered, dragging Castiel to his bedroom. He crowded Cas against the closed door, kissing his smile.

“Hey, who do you think I am?” Cas teased as Dean started kissing down his neck. 

“Mine,” Dean mumbled, and Cas shivered a little. He pushed his hands up Dean’s shirt, dragging his fingertips along his warm skin, sighing into his mouth as they started kissing.

Dean fucked him slowly, taking his time with each stroke, each feather-light touch. He completely deconstructed Castiel, leaving wet, warm marks on his neck and chest while he filled him so completely. 

Cas was a writhing mess underneath him, hands spanning Dean’s back, hips jerking as Dean whispered filthily in his ear. His body was overheated, shying away from the over-sensitized touches, leaning into the peppering of kisses Dean rained on him. He was being loud, too loud, and Dean delighted in silencing him with his mouth, his fingers.

It became feverish, fast, and frantic. Dean’s hands encircled Cas’ wrists and pinned them tight above his head, rolling into his body with desperation. Cas was floored that he hadn’t come yet, the way Dean was looking at him, nuzzling him, biting his earlobe.

“Fuck me,” Cas breathed, tongue flicking against Dean’s lips. “Don’t stop, fuck me.”

“Never stopping,” Dean murmured back, grinding into Cas’ body. “Come on, angel, let me hear you.”

When Cas came, he arched up and off the bed, Deans hands holding his hips tight. It sent Dean into near-hysterics, panting heavily into Cas’ ear as he fucked Cas through his orgasm. 

“Gonna come,” he mumbled.

“Yes,” Castiel encouraged, pulling Dean down, crushing him. “Come for me, come in me, please.”

Dean moaned and pressed his forehead against Castiel’s, his thrusts slowing as his muscles clenched and he came hard. Cas moaned with him, feeling the warmth through the condom and pushing his hips down on his cock. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” Dean sighed, carding his hands through Cas’ hair. 

“Back atcha,” Castiel sighed, his arms encircling Dean’s warm body as they cuddled together. They were gross, exhausted, too hot, and entirely comfortable. 

\\\\\

Castiel ended up staying the night. After a shower, some more fooling around, and a midnight snack, Dean dragged him back into the bedroom and insisted he was staying over. Cas couldn’t find it in himself to protest.

Dean even drove him into work the next morning, kissing his lips in the parking lot and asking if they could get together again in a few days. Castiel agreed before Dean was able to finish his sentence. 

He walked into Tech Heaven with a grin on his face, surely dopey and distracted. So distracted that he almost ran into Chuck, who caught him by the shoulders, face somber. 

“Castiel, can I talk to you for a sec? In private?”

Cas stomach dropped so fast he was worried he’d fall over. He was suddenly very cold, numbly following Chuck to his office.

Chuck gestured for him to sit down, which he did, slowly and warily.

“I,” Chuck started, and Cas could already tell where this was going. “I really hate to do this, but I have no choice.”

“What’s going on, sir?” He asked, voice hollow.

Chuck sighed heavily, eyebrows drawn together. “We’re going to have to let you go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join me on [tumblr!](http://dandelionwhiskey.tumblr.com) :)


	4. Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go.

“They did what?” Dean shouted into the phone receiver. Castiel pulled his cell away from his head, sighing.

“They fired me,” he mumbled again. The bus stop across the street from Tech Heaven was Castiel’s least favorite place in the world; it smelled faintly of cooking oil and cigarettes and the no matter where he looked, he could see the blinking clouds and halos that decorated the outside of his previous job. Dean’s scoff on the other end of the line made him feel marginally better.

“For what?” Dean said angrily. 

Castiel sighed heavily, closing his eyes tight. He scuffed his shoe against shallow puddle, anxiety knotted in his gut. “Fraternization on the job,” he said after a moment.

Dean was quiet, then. “Oh.”

“I didn’t- I screwed up,” Castiel said miserably. “When I edited the tapes, I just put in the footage from the night before. I thought it’d be all right.” 

“It looked good to me,” Dean said, gently soothing. Castiel resisted the urge to hang up on him.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t raining the night before,” Cas sighed, leaning against the filthy plexiglass of the bus station. “And Chuck always notices a thunderstorm.”

“Shit,” Dean swore softly. “Shit, Cas, I didn’t notice either.” 

Cas sighed. “Yeah, well. Chuck looked at the parking lot surveillance and saw me leaving with you. He thought we were stealing, but he double-checked inventory and just put two-and-two together.” 

“He made the logical connection between lost footage and sex?” Dean said skeptically. “Something doesn’t add up here.”

“I sort of… confessed,” Castiel admitted. He heard Dean pause and then laugh on the other end, and he couldn’t help but smile a little as well. “I couldn’t help it, he looked so betrayed.”

He could almost hear Dean’s grin. “So, you told him. And he fired you.”

“Yeah,” Cas said. 

“Well,” Dean said. “Shit.” Castiel could hear the guilt in his voice, and he wanted to feel bad, but he couldn’t quite muster up the sympathy. 

“Yeah,” Castiel said.

“I’ll come pick you up,” Dean suggested. Castiel could hear him moving around, probably grabbing his coat. Ambivalence jolted through him and he bit his lip. 

“Nah,” he heard himself deny, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. “I think I need some time alone.” As he said the words, even he didn’t believe them. All he knew was that he didn’t want to see Dean right now, even though he did, even when he didn’t. He sighed again.

Dean didn’t say anything for a minute. “Okay, Cas,” he finally muttered, but he didn’t sound too convinced. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” Castiel said.

///

Cas spent the next few days cleaning his apartment. Everything felt bare. Tech Heaven wasn’t anyone’s top-of-the-ladder, but Castiel had been content there. He’d gathered his paychecks, socialized with Gabriel and Anna, even enjoyed listening to Chuck. It had felt like home. And now he was no longer welcome.

Before Cas left, after Chuck was finished talking with him, the owner had placed a tentative hand on Castiel’s shoulder. Cas wasn’t sure Chuck had ever touched him like that before, or _anyone_ for that matter. Castiel had felt it held the weight of apology, but finality. 

“You were my favorite,” Chuck had said. That didn’t make Cas feel any better.

He fielded calls from Gabriel and Anna while he scrubbed his bathtub, assuring them that yes, he had a cushion to live on until he found a new job, and no, he wouldn’t be trying to get his job back. Anna sounded horribly sad, but Gabriel treated it with his usual flippant disregard for anything serious. 

“At least you got laid,” he mused, and Castiel hung up on him.

He ignored all of Dean’s phone calls, feeling a pang of guilt each time. Eventually they tapered off, left with a text that said only, **/I hope you feel better./**

On the third day, he took a longer moment to feel sorry for himself, just sitting in his armchair, staring at the plaster swirls on his ceiling until his vision blurred. Telling himself, _you should put your résumé online_ , and _you should look at smaller apartments_ , and _you should definitely keep feeling sorry for yourself._

It was around that level of self-pity that there was a knock on his door, and Cas groaned. He hadn’t even changed out of his uniform, yet. He dragged his feet toward the door and peeked through the peep-hole.

Dean stood there, hand folded around a brown paper bag of what looked like Chinese food, peering back through the peep-hole. He wore a gentle smile, waggling the bag in front of him. Castiel felt his emotions have a brief war, something between relief and frustration and annoyance and affection before he finally pulled the door open with a sigh.

Dean’s smile relaxed a little, clearly reassured by Cas letting him in. But Cas didn’t step back from the doorframe, hesitating slightly, eyes not quite able to meet Dean’s. “What are you doing here?” He said sort of dully.

Dean shrugged. “I didn’t believe you when you said you wanted to be alone.”

Castiel pressed his mouth into a thin line, letting himself really look at Dean for the first time. He was trying. Cas couldn’t really begrudge that. He moved aside, letting Dean walk into his apartment, raising an eyebrow at him. “What’s in the bag?”

“General Tso’s chicken, a meatball sub, a cobb salad, and a slice of cheesecake.” Castiel stared at him, and he shrugged. “I don’t know what your comfort food is,” he mumbled, “so I brought options.”

Cas felt something strong swell in his chest, something he almost needed to fight down for fear he’d burst into flames and burn his own apartment down. He took the food from Dean’s hands, gently placing it on the counter. Dean watched him, eyebrows knit in concern.

“Look, I don’t want you blaming yourself here.”

“I’m not,” Cas interrupted. “It’s your fault.”

“So- wait, what?” Dean balked, frowning. “No, you’re supposed to say it’s your fault, and then I argue that it’s mine, and then you sigh with acquiesce and say it’s no one’s fault and then we have sex on the kitchen floor.”

Castiel smirked. “I guess I skipped to step two.”

“Can we skip to step four?” Dean asked as Castiel turned his gaze to the floor, crossing his arms over his chest. He shook his head, smiling sadly. “Oh, come on. You don’t really want to be mad at me.”

“Of course I don’t want to be mad at you,” Cas said, rolling his eyes as he made to put the food in the fridge. Dean made a small noise of protest, but Castiel ignored him, and sighed. “I’m not even really pissed off. It’s just, well…”

Dean was shifting his weight from foot to foot, clearly nervous. Castiel found it mildly endearing. “What?” Dean asked, his voice small.

“My job was my life,” Castiel started to explain. “It was where I had my family, my livelihood, my work. As bad as it seemed some of the time, it was home.” Dean opened his mouth, ready to interrupt with an apology, but Castiel held up a hand to stop him. “That changed the first time I heard your voice over the phone.”

Dean snapped his mouth shut, standing up straight, ready to listen.

“I was ready to jeopardize everything for you. I did jeopardize everything,” he added with a chuckle. Dean gave a quick half-smile. “Looking at you, it reminds me of everything that I let go of.”

Castiel had to give credit to Dean, listening so patiently, blinking slowly, his bottom lip worried between his teeth. Castiel placed a gentle hand on Dean’s chest, his fingers tightening in the t-shirt.

“But I’m okay,” Cas said, “because looking at you also reminds me why I let go of it.”

“And that’s scary,” Dean finished for him, and Castiel allowed himself a small nod. Dean narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you dare tell me you love me.”

Cas laughed, pulling Dean into a hug, pressing his face against the other man’s neck. “Is that a challenge?”

“No!” Dean said, trying to scramble away from Castiel, who tightened his arms around Dean’s middle, grinning. “I’m a tough guy, Castiel, I don’t fall in love. I warned you!” Castiel pulled them both around so he was pressing Dean up against the counter, dragging his lips along his throat.

“You did not,” he murmured into his skin. 

“I did,” Dean protested, “I said ‘don’t fall in love with me, baby, it’s a love that won’t last.’” Castiel pushed his hands up the bottom of Dean’s shirt. “I can’t believe you didn’t listen to me.”

“That’s a BeeGee’s song,” Castiel argued, mouth just under Dean’s ear, “and I never said I loved you.”

Dean scoffed, tiptoeing his fingers down to rest on Castiel’s ass. “Please. It’s written all over your face,” he said matter-of-factly. “There, between your eyes,” he said, poking Castiel’s forehead. “Clear as day: I love you, Dean Winchester.”

“I think you need glasses,” Castiel mused. 

“You listen to the BeeGee’s?” Dean accused, and was cut off from any further ridicule by Castiel’s mouth finding his. He kissed fervently, his hands coming up to cup Dean’s cheeks as he pushed him into the counter.

Dean was having none of it, though, as he curved his arms around Castiel’s waist and smoothly turned and lifted him up onto the counter. Cas laughed a little as Dean fitted himself between his legs, running his hands down Castiel’s chest. Cas just tipped his head forward again, not even giving Dean a chance to breathe. He couldn’t find it in himself to let go, he just wanted to touch him everywhere, draw him closer, be surrounded by him. 

He hooked his ankles around Dean’s waist, yanking him forward the best he could. Dean was losing coordination in his kisses, his tongue sliding out across Cas’ lips before pushing back in, curling against Castiel’s. It was kind of messy, a little uncontrolled, and all kinds of hot. Castiel’s hands had found Dean’s hair and were tangling in it the best they could, fingers sliding through the strands while he rocked forward. 

It was too hot too fast, and Cas decided he really did need to stop before things got too out of hand. He pulled away, finishing off with a sharp, chaste kiss or two, gripping the front of Dean’s t-shirt. “Don’t love you one bit,” he said, voice a little breathy.

“Don’t love you either,” Dean said firmly, fiddling with the collar of Castiel’s uniform. His fingers delicately curved around the little wings of his nametag, thumb dragging across Cas’ embossed name. He smirked at Cas, nosing across his cheek to kiss under his ear. “My fallen angel.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Don’t start.”

“You fell from Heaven for me,” Dean said, eyes wide and innocent. Cas pushed at him, laughing, but Dean kept his grip tight. Castiel could feel Dean’s grin against his collarbone as Dean unbuttoned his uniform, sliding each one out gently, letting the pads of his fingers touch every inch of newly exposed skin. It was slow, intimate, and it made Castiel’s chest heave with deep breaths.

“Sure did,” Cas decided to say while Dean pulled his shirt off. “Disobeyed God. Rebelled against my fellow angels.” 

Dean made a happy little noise as Cas played along, his hands finally making it down to Castiel’s belt buckle. “How can I ever repay you?” He said, blinking up at Cas, toying with his belt. Cas leered, running his fingers through the stubble along Dean’s chin.

“The greatest gift a human can give an angel,” he said, voice low and eyes half-lidded, “is to be let inside.”

Dean blinked slowly, then sucked in a sharp breath. “You sayin’ you want to fuck me, Castiel? Wanna be inside me?”

Cas nodded, a smile breaking out on his face as he pulled Dean’s shirt up and over his head. He thumbed across his nipple, giving him a shy smile. “If that’s okay,” he said, “then I would like that, Dean.”

“Well shit, Cas,” Dean grinned, “why didn’t you just say so?” He pulled Cas down off the counter, slotting their hips together and grinding against him for a moment. Cas went a little dizzy, but Dean was walking them toward the couch, and he dug his heels in.

“Bedroom,” he said, and Dean agreed, letting Castiel lead him there.

“Gee,” he said, looking around Castiel’s bare bedroom. “Homey.”

Cas shrugged, nudging Dean toward the bed. “I guess I never really settled here,” he said, watching Dean scoot up on the bed, his legs lazily apart like an invitation. Castiel joined him, pulling his belt out from the loops and tossing it aside just as Dean pulled him down, kissing him.

They lay like that for longer than Castiel expected, sharing deep, wet kisses and wandering hands. They eventually managed to shed their clothes, despite a brief argument over whether Castiel should wear his ID badge (they went with ‘no,’ against Dean’s vehement protests). 

Castiel leaned back on his haunches, eyes travelling over the naked and flushed man in his bed, curling his fingers around Dean’s cock. He opened his mouth to say something but couldn’t quite find words, so he instead pushed Dean’s legs up so his feet were flat on the bed and took his erection into his mouth. 

Dean swore, hands all over Cas’ cheeks and neck and hair. Castiel loved how handsy Dean got, gripping his hair and thumbing the place his dick rubbed against his cheek, making quiet, sharp noises while Castiel lapped at the head. Dean squirmed and thrust and Castiel let him, mouth open and pliant. He could feel Dean looking down at him, so he made a show of it, slowly sucking his way from root to tip.

“Fuck,” Dean groaned, shaking his head. “Stop, stop.” Cas pulled off and smirked, letting Dean drag him up to kiss him, tongue exploratory and soft. Dean parted his legs and hiked his legs up over Cas’ waist, rolling his lips upward while they kissed. His head fell back to the pillow after a moment, a flush high on his cheeks. 

He looked a mess already, and Castiel couldn’t have been more pleased.

“Have you ever done this?” He asked after a moment, dragging his thumb between Dean’s legs. Dean drew a shuddering breath, nodding.

“Yeah, I know the drill,” he said, poking open one eye. “But something tells me this won’t exactly be the same.” 

Cas laughed and procured his lube from the bedside table, pouring a generous amount into his palm. “That’s right,” he promised, stealing a kiss from Dean as he rubbed his slick fingers against Dean’s ass. Dean sighed and let Castiel prepare him, only wincing when Cas slid in the third finger, only moaning when he curled his fingers and rubbed against his prostate.

Castiel couldn’t keep his mouth away from Dean’s skin for too long, mouthing along his thighs and hips and stomach while he got Dean nice and slick for him. Eventually he got impatient, seeing the way Dean’s dick was beading precome, the way his bottom lip was swollen from being sucked and bitten while Cas touched him. No one would have been able to resist that.

Cas pushed Dean’s legs up, letting Dean hook his arms under his knees while he slid on a condom. Dean squeezed his eyes shut as Cas pressed the tip of his cock into Dean, slowly, trying to keep his breathing steady.

Cas started thinking in clichés; about how it felt like coming home, and fireworks were exploding behind his eyelids, and everything was perfect. He’d never been much of a romantic, but goddamn if Dean squeezing tight around him and white-knuckle gripping his shoulders while he panted helplessly wasn’t romance.

It didn’t take them long to build up a rhythm, Dean rocking his hips down to meet Castiel’s slow thrusts forward, arms looped around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss occasionally. It was delightfully vanilla, sweet, chock full of all kinds of things neither of them thought they were any good at.

Castiel shifted his hips and Dean grunted, his fingers flexing on Cas’ forearms. Cas took the hint, putting one hand on Dean’s bare stomach and starting to roll his hips firmly at that same angle, just watching the flush creep down Dean’s neck. 

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean sighed out, hands falling to grip the sheets. Cas smiled, the slow burn of whatever they’d started just starting to really ignite. His thrusts sped up, drawing out louder noises from the other man. 

As Dean started to steadily moan, eyes locked forward, Cas leaned down and scooped Dean up toward him so he was practically in Cas’ lap, his legs splayed out and arms loosely around his neck. It brought Dean firmly down on Castiel’s dick, wringing a moan out of both of them.

Now face-to-face, it made it easier to kiss and lick along Dean’s neck and swallow down his sounds. Dean rode him fast, his cock rubbing up against Castiel’s stomach while he moved, slicking it up with precome. He fit a hand between them, jerking himself off while Cas fucked up into him, hands spanning his back. 

Their weight shifted and Castiel fell back on the mattress, letting Dean fit a knee on either side of him, riding him hard. Cas tried futile to push up into Dean but the pace was too fast, Dean too desperate to get Cas inside of him.

“Dean,” Cas grunted out, taking his cock in hand and thumbing across it.

“Feels so good, Cas,” Dean said, jerking his hips forward into Castiel’s hand. Castiel’s breath caught short, feeling Dean’s voice rumble all the way through him. “You feel so fucking good.”

Castiel nearly lost it, feeling Dean surround him completely hips undulating as rapidly as he could to keep up with Dean’s vicious pace. His cheeks were hot with exertion, thighs burning from bearing Dean’s weight, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care that he’d lost his job or that he might lose his apartment or that he’d screwed up Dean’s life in the process, too, he just wanted to disappear inside the man.

He lifted Dean off of him and pushed him down on his stomach, feeling a spike of arousal at Dean’s grunt of surprise. He pulled his ass up in the air, putting him more or less on display, running a reverent hand over the reddened skin. Dean wriggled a little.

“On with it, Novak,” he demanded, and Castiel allowed himself a laugh. He slid back in, curving his arm around Dean’s waist to take his cock back in hand. Dean whined and thrust forward and back, hips unsure where to go. It was one of the hottest things Castiel had ever seen.

It became fast, then, sharp and deep thrusts, leaving Dean to tangle his hands in the bed sheets and bury his face in the pillow, muffling his moans. Castiel curved over Dean’s back and kissed between his shoulder blades, relentlessly pounding into him. 

Castiel could feel the way Dean was grinding back, his short breaths coming with a gentle timbre, and he knew he was going to come. He slowed to roll his hips with determination, speeding his hand up to bring him off. Dean let out a litany of curses, hands balling into tight fists as he hit his orgasm hard, spilling into Castiel’s palm. 

Cas started to slow but Dean kept pushing back, shaking his head. “Don’t stop, fuck, please don’t stop.” 

Castiel groaned and complied, pushing in and out fast, drowning in Dean’s panting breaths. With Dean flexing around him, his come dripping off of Castiel’s fingers, Castiel’s orgasm was inevitable. He sighed out Dean’s name, grinding forward into his body, shooting off hard while Dean squirmed underneath him. 

They stayed that way for a moment, breathing, Castiel’s forehead pressed to Dean’s back. 

“Well, you’ve made me a believer,” Dean mumbled into the pillow, and Castiel laughed, pulling out and collapsing next to him. Dean leaned over him, sliding his hand down to rub lightly at Cas’ chest and stomach, giving him a gentle, lingering kiss on his lips. 

“So, what is it?” Dean asked.

“What’s what?” Cas said, head still swimming.

“Your comfort food.”

Castiel laughed, burying his face in Dean’s neck. “Chicken noodle soup.”

\\\\\

They cleaned up with individual showers (“They’re not big enough for two, Dean-” “We’ll make room!” “No!”) and collapsed, exhausted, on Castiel’s couch. Cas idly fiddled with some frays at the bottom of his t-shirt, sighing. Dean rolled his eyes, poking his shoulder.

“Hey, what’s with the heaving sighs, man? We just had awesome sex.” 

Castiel rolled his eyes. “I know. I’m just thinking about money. I need to get a new job.” 

Dean shrugged. “You’ll find one. Smart guy like you?”

“You have no idea how smart I am,” Castiel argued. Dean stared at him.

“Cas, I set my laptop on fire,” he said flatly. “And you fixed it.” Cas held his hands up in defeat.

“Touché,” he said. “Now to find a market of dumb, hot guys who’ll pay me thousands of dollars to fix their computers.”

“Hey!” Dean protested, narrowing his eyes at Castiel, “no hot ones. They all have to pass my screening process.” At Castiel’s inquiring eyebrow, he continued, “anyone with Ed Hardy t-shirts, pony-tails, skinny jeans, and a Midwestern accent makes it through.”

Castiel pursed his lips. “I like skinny jeans.”

Dean glared at him. “You do not. No one likes skinny jeans.”

Cas shrugged. “What can I say? I like to see what I’m getting myself into,” he smirked, squeezing Dean’s inner thigh.

“You don’t like a big surprise?” Dean grinned, waggling his eyebrows. 

“Sure, I do. Why, do you have one?” He said cheekily. Dean made a hurt noise and tackled Castiel back to the couch, but his phone starting ringing on the table before it could go any further. Castiel peered at the phone curiously, passing it over to Dean. “It’s Sam.”

Dean sighed, grabbing it and standing up. “’Scuse me,” he mumbled, going into the other room. Castiel sunk into the couch, taking that moment to let a stupid grin out, covering his face with his hands. He was a grown man, but he couldn’t help a little giddiness seep into him, probably escorted by the endorphins and pheromones. 

He heard Dean made a ruckus in the other room, and he wondered what he could be talking to Sam about. Maybe him. He still wasn’t sure if he’d gotten on the younger Winchester’s good side yet, although dinner had gone pretty well at the end. It was possible that ignoring Dean for three days hadn’t exactly won him any points. 

Dean came back in the room, expression entirely unreadable. “Everything okay?” Cas asked, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah,” Cas said. “Sam wants us to get over to the house, pronto.” 

Cas blinked. “Me, too?”

“He said not to come without you,” Dean shrugged. 

Dean didn’t say much on the drive over, but Cas was worried. It didn’t seem like it could be anything good, the way Dean was anxiously tapping his fingers against the wheel, eyes on the road ahead of him. Cas kept his hand reassuringly on Dean’s leg, squeezing every so often. Dean smiled appreciatively each time, giving Cas a little flutter in his stomach.

He pulled into the Winchesters’ driveway, where Sam was waiting in the doorway. He escorted them in, giving Castiel a brief nod of hello before sitting them both down in the living room. He sat across from them, expression stoic, definitely _not_ helping Castiel’s concern.

“What’s going on?” He asked impatiently, anxiety welling up inside of him. Sam took a deep breath.

“Well, our dig got usurped by another archeology team,” Sam said, and Castiel’s shoulders slumped. He couldn’t believe Sam would drag him all the way over here just to admonish him. “They got full funding for their project. They have a bigger team, double the research, and are ready to start tomorrow.”

“Sam, I am _so_ sorry, I can’t begin to express,” Castiel started, but Sam shook his head, cutting him off. 

“The man leading the dig is named Balthazar,” he went on, and something itched at the back of his brain. He knew that name somehow, but he couldn’t quite place it. Sam noticed Castiel’s brows knit, and smiled. “He’s Gabriel’s cousin.”

“Gabriel’s cousin,” Castiel said slowly. “As in, Tech Heaven Gabriel?” He said, the pieces slowly falling together.

“Yes,” Sam said, crossing his arms over his chest. Castiel remembered how Sam looked when he smiled, now. All dimples and teeth, open, handsome. “Gabriel put in a phone call or two,” he went on. “And we’re on the dig.”

Castiel’s eyes widened, jaw dropping. “Sam, that’s great!” He looked to Dean, who was just smirking, shaking his shoulder. “Dean, why aren’t you freaking out?”

“Because he’s the one that set it up, the little shit,” Sam said, mock-glaring at his brother. “He did it all behind our back. Apparently Gabriel made him the offer as soon as he found out you screwed him over.”

Castiel turned and smacked Dean on the shoulder, hard, only evoking a laugh from the other man. “You’re such an asshole! You let me feel horrible about something you’d already fixed.”

“Uh, if you remember correctly, I kept telling you not to worry about it,” Dean said drolly. Sam flipped him off.

“He didn’t want to spill the beans before it was final, get our hopes up,” Sam explained. “But it _is_ final. We leave tomorrow.” 

The smile sort of slipped from Castiel’s face, but he tried his hardest to keep it firmly attached. “That’s wonderful. You two deserve it.”

“The dig will go twice as well,” Sam said excitedly, “because we have more resources. Bigger team. Someone to keep Dean from losing all of our material.”

Dean was looking over at him, eyebrows raised expectantly. Castiel squirmed. “What? Me?” The Winchesters both nodded, but Cas shook his head. “I can’t do that! I- have to-”

“Come on,” Dean interrupted. “Your lease is up on your apartment, you’re unemployed. Come with us.”

“We need a tech specialist anyway, Cas,” Sam said. “We can’t do it without you. Don’t screw this up for us twice.” His smile was gentle, though. Castiel could feel his heartbeat in his throat.

“I’m going to throttle Gabriel,” he mumbled under his breath. 

“Is that a yes?” Dean said hopefully, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, it’s a little hot for Heaven, but you might fit right in.”

Castiel laughed, shaking his head, staring at his knees. “Yeah. I mean, of course. Why not?” He felt a little hysterical, but Sam looked so thrilled. Dean had kind of a smug smile on his face which made Castiel want to shove him, but he kept his hands to himself.

“Castiel, that’s the best decision you’ve made all month,” Sam said happily.

“Hey!” Dean protested, and Cas patted his arm gently. 

“We have some things for you to sign,” Sam said, getting up to get the paperwork that Castiel was sure meant he was signing his life away. He felt strangely okay. 

“Where are we even going?”Cas asked, surprised that wasn’t his first question.

“Egypt,” Dean said. Castiel could see the excitement gleaming in his eyes, and it made affection flurry inside of him. Dean cleared his throat. “I’m not a good flyer, so let’s just say I’m glad you’re coming.” 

“That’s what this is all about?” Cas said, eyebrows raised. “So you can get in the mile-high club on the way to Egypt? That’s a long con.”

“I’m the best,” Dean grinned, kissing Castiel’s lips.

\\\\\

Days later, when they landed in Egypt, Dean was even more shaken than Castiel until he was able to firmly plant his feet on the airport floor. Cas was dragged through the whirlwind of customs and cabs and hauling equipment through the busy streets, until they found their hotel room. The air was heavy and warm, filled with unfamiliar smells and sounds. Castiel took a moment in the bathroom to breathe, to remember who he was with, and to remind himself this was what he wanted.

Dean knocked after a moment. “You okay in there, angel?” 

“Don’t call me that,” Castiel mumbled through the door. Dean came in, smiling, wrapping his arms around him.

“Hey. You’re good, right?” Cas nodded, running a hand through his hair. Dean laughed. “Come on, remember when I told you that I’d learn your tells? You touch your hair when you’re lying.”

Dean lead a shaken Cas from the bathroom into their room, where he had a hotplate set up. On it, simmering a bowl of canned chicken soup. Cas looked at Dean desperately, words dead in his throat.

“Here,” he said, pouring the warm soup into two cups, handing one over to Castiel. Cas inhaled deeply, letting _home_ wash over him. He held the soup aside and kissed Dean gently, shoulders finally relaxing.

“Thanks,” he said, voice way more exhausted than he’d realized. “I needed this, Dean. Thank you.”

“Don’t get all schmoopy,” Dean said lightly, sipping the soup. “It’s just Campbell’s.” 

Castiel sipped his too, salty and steaming, just the right temperature. “I hope you realize this doesn’t keep me from loving you,” he pointed out. 

“Yeah, well,” Dean said, eyes everywhere but Cas’, “maybe I could get used to the idea. You’re kind of stuck with me.”

“I didn’t even have to sign a warranty,” Castiel said happily, taking another sip.

“Gift from God,” Dean said, gesturing to himself.

“More like a deal with the devil,” Castiel murmured innocently. 

“Po-tay-toh, po-tah-to,” Dean said, waving him off. 

Castiel watched him for a moment, the sounds of Egypt drifting in through their open window, wondering if maybe Dean had it backwards all along. Cas may have worn the angel’s wings, but he wasn’t the one who did the saving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Join me on tumblr!](http://dandelionwhiskey.tumblr.com/)   
>  [All incredible art by purgatoryjar.](http://purgatoryjar.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Again, all artwork by the incomparable [purgatoryjar!](http://purgatoryjar.tumblr.com). Original art post [here :)](http://purgatoryjar.tumblr.com/post/126587299162/commission-for-dandelionwhiskey-for-her-fic)


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